In the Bleak Midwinter
by emerald isle
Summary: Christmas has descended upon Hogwarts, and to Draco, it's all colorless and empty. Then a splash of red catches his weary eye, but he's not the only one who notices. COMPLETE!
1. Five Shades of Red

**Chapter One: Five Shades of Red**

Ginny looked up from her Arithmancy book, out the snow-frosted Common Room window. Even the cold weather looked inviting—more inviting than this homework, anyway...

She tried again to finish her work, but she knew she had lost all desire to learn hours ago. She had been studying for too long, so instead, she decided to take a walk. Surely the cool air would relax her mind enough to work again.

Her old black cloak was thin, and she clutched it close to her against the freezing wind. The snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and hair, and her eyes brightened against the bitter cold.

She had been feeling down lately. Just the night before, when Christmas Holidays were first beginning and Ginny was sleeping alone in her dormitory, her old nightmares had returned—visions of Tom rising from the diary.

Ginny shivered, not only from the cold.

-&-

Draco Malfoy stood on the steps of Hogwarts Castle, squinting his eyes against the siege of snow and wind. The waves on the lake were growing higher, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest were heavily laden with snow.

_It's colorless,_ Draco thought. _Everything's white, black, and gray at Christmastime._

But, no—suddenly, Draco caught sight of a splash of color, flitting wildly atop the hillside overlooking Hogsmeade, like a banner. Not a banner...hair. Brilliant red hair the color of the sunset. It shone against the white snow and black cloak of its owner, dancing in the breeze.

_Christmas red, _Draco thought, admiring the softness and beauty of it, which were visible even from that distance. _Blood red; vermilion red; geranium red._

The person turned around and began her solitary journey down the hillside. Draco started as he realized who she was. How different she had become, how old, how mature. How sorrowful.

_Weasley red,_ Draco thought, as he turned and slipped back inside the cold stone castle.

-&-

"Ginny?" Hermione asked softly, "Why are you so late?"

"Went for a walk," she replied simply, sitting down beside Ron. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat your supper. You skipped lunch," Ron ordered.

"Come off it, you sound like Mum. Has she been giving you orders or something?"

Ron's ears turned red. "Well...no...but I—"

"Oh, Ron, it's Christmas," Hermione said soothingly.

Ron rounded on her. "What, and that's an excuse for not eating?"

"Don't cause more problems," Hermione told him sternly. "Let's enjoy the holidays."

Ron fell silent, chewing his dinner huffily.

"Where were you all day?" Harry asked Ginny. "Avoiding us?"

"Studying, if you must know," Ginny sighed.

"Good," said Hermione. "Ron, you should take a leaf out of her book."

"She may be studying, but she never said it's helping anything," Ron said, slightly nettled.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. Ginny looked nervously at her brother.

"I _mean,_" said Ron, turning his reprimanding gaze on Ginny, "Miss Studious here is failing both Charms _and_ Transfiguration!"

Harry and Hermione looked very surprised. "What?"

Ginny glared at Ron, ignoring them. "How'd you find out?"

"I...heard the news from someone," Ron replied vaguely. "Why, were you planning on keeping it a secret?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was," said Ginny, unabashed.

"Ginny? What's gotten into you? _Two_ classes?" Hermione screeched.

Ginny shrugged. "I told you, I studied today. And I'm top of my class in Potions."

Hermione just blinked at her, mouth agape.

-&-

Draco sat down quietly among the chattering Slytherins, staring thoughtfully across the Great Hall. Ginny was poking morosely at her potatoes, looking grim. Potter and his lackeys, Ron and Hermione, weren't including her in their vibrant conversation, as usual. _Never able to budge up and make room for others,_ Draco thought acidly. _Always sharing little secrets with one another in tiny whispers._

Draco wondered momentarily why she looked so downcast. Her face was gaunt and pale, and her clothes seemed to hang off her thin frame. She yawned as he watched, scrunching up her eyes tiredly.

"Draco, dear," Pansy squeaked, and Draco's train of thought derailed. "Why aren't you eating anything?"

"I'll eat when I'm hungry, _Mum_," Draco her replied airily, and she turned away, frowning.

Draco went back to his thoughts, but he quickly forgot little Miss Weasley, and his mind moved on to more important things.

-&-

Ginny sank deeper into her large, cushioned chair, wanting to be invisible. _If only no one else could see me, _she thought wistfully. _Then I'd never be hounded by Professors and Mum and Ron and..._

She cast about quickly for something else to muse over, because she had come dangerously close to thinking about a name she had no desire to think about. But this name was not easily cast aside, and it rose again to the top of her thoughts.

_...Tom. _

Ginny shivered again, even though she sat before the warm fire in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Every time she heard that name, her body turned cold. Her blood froze in her veins and her thoughts turned dark. It was as if a cloud had moved over her personal sun, and her whole body was engulfed in shadows. An old phrase of Dumbledore's popped into Ginny's head: "Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself." _Well, _she thought dryly, _it's a reversible statement. Fear of a thing increases fear of its name. _

But this name induced more than just fear. It seemed to spread darkness, only by being said or heard. This name held more meaning and more power than simple fear.

_Darkness,_ Ginny thought,_ death, greed, and power._

The four things that his name stood for.

-&-

Draco sat stiffly in the Slytherin Common Room, waiting for the noisy students to go up to bed. Gradually, they left, yawning and stretching.

Finally, only two students were left, besides Draco. They were playing wizards' chess, snickering quietly as the chess pieces attacked one another brutally.

All Draco wanted was some peace and quiet...and that's just what was impossible to get. It seemed like every Slytherin had stayed behind for the holidays, and Draco wasn't happy about it—he liked having the run of the Common Room.

Annoyed by the seemingly untiring and immature wizards playing chess in the corner, Draco got up and hastily stalked from the Common Room. Racing through the dungeons, he hurried across the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall. He then sprinted up the Grand Staircase and rushed to the Astronomy Tower.

_Ah, perfect silence,_ Draco thought, basking in the peace he had finally found. No one was nearby, and the whole tower was steeped in darkness. Only the stars glittered high above, casting just enough light to illuminate Draco's icy-gray eyes.

Draco sighed. How wonderful it felt to finally relax, to finally escape the hounding of his father and his fellow Slytherins. _Draco, are you comfortable? Draco, are you well fed? Draco, are you treated respectfully?_ It was a constant stream of doting that Draco found abhorrent and loathsome. Up here on the tower, surrounded by darkness, he was left to his own thoughts.

Or so he expected.

Footsteps echoed behind him, and Draco turned around swiftly by reflex. "Who's there?" he muttered into the shadows, looking for whoever had disturbed his peace.

"Oh—I'm sorry," a soft female voice replied, sounding quiet and sad. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

_Well, you have, _Draco thought, his happiness at finding a relaxing moment dissolving quickly into disappointment. But he did not say anything, for once.

Something about that girl's voice—so sorrowful—made him hold his tongue. She sounded as if she held all the horrors of the universe on her back, and Draco felt a sudden need to help her.

His first thought wasn't to be chivalrous—_Potter can play the hero, but I certainly won't, _he thought acidly. Instead, he was reminded of his own bitterness toward people at that moment, and he thought this girl sounded as if she was feeling the same way.

He couldn't see her face, but he saw the slender shadow of her body move to look over the tower wall beside him.

"Escaping the torture of your Common Room?" Draco murmured, staring back out at the stars.

"You got it on the first guess," she replied, suddenly sounding exhausted.

Draco laughed quietly. "Birds of a feather flock together."

"What bothered you so much in your Common Room?" she asked. It sounded as though she were speaking through a smile.

"The students, gits that they are. The homework. The whole bloody atmosphere," he replied angrily.

She laughed this time, but hollowly. "Exactly—although I say, bollocks to the homework. What's one more failed class to me?"

Draco nodded, although she couldn't see him. "It's the holidays, for Merlin's sake. Do the professors ever show any mercy?"

"Never, at least not to the sixth years..."

_So she's a sixth year. And not a Slytherin—I don't recognize her voice, _Draco thought. But instead, he said, "Or the seventh years."

Draco looked over at her and saw her soft, slow breathing forming into a silver mist before her mouth. "Cold?" he asked her quietly.

"A little," she admitted. "But it's always cold at Christmas. Cold and bleak and colorless."

Draco remembered thinking the same thing just a few hours ago—at least, until he saw Ginny Weasley's hair, blowing in five different shades of red against the pale winter snow.

"Not completely colorless," he remarked. "There's always Christmas red..."

He felt her stir beside him, shifting onto her other elbow as she stared out at the sky.

"But still cold," she said finally.

In one swift movement, Draco took off his cloak and threw it over her shoulders, smoothly clasping it around her neck with ease. A few times while he was hooking the silver pieces together, his pale fingers touched her neck, and it was smooth and soft and cold as ice. He felt her quiver beneath his touch, but, for some reason, he hoped it was only because she was cold.

"There," he said finally, feeling somewhat reluctant to move away from her.

"Thank you," she replied, and he heard her pull the cloak close to her. "This is better."

"I'm glad," he said, before he could stop himself.

Then, gradually, the night wore on, and the stars moved, and Draco stood thinking about the constellations. At one point, the girl lay her head against his shoulder and huddled close to him, and he was happy to run his fingers through her hair.

It was long, and thick, but smooth and flowing like a river. It felt like silk beneath his hands, and he could just imagine it being a beautiful color, like raven black or golden blond.

For some reason, most of all, Draco wished it were five shades of red.

-&-

Ginny was comfortable up on the tower, shielded in the strong arms of her mysterious guardian. He was warm, and she felt protected from the icy, dark thoughts she had been thinking in the Common Room. His strength and presence seemed to warm her just as much as his thick cloak had when he wrapped it over her shoulders, and the weight of his hands running through her hair was both comforting and calming.

Then, sadly, the moon began to set, and Ginny knew she needed to go back to her Common Room.

"Goodnight," she murmured to him, still only seeing his pale eyes shining in the darkness.

"Goodnight," he replied, stepping away from her and letting her retreat down the tower.

Gradually, she descended the steps and hurried off to the Gryffindor Tower, racing through the halls, desperate not to be caught. Finally, she was safe in the security of her dormitory—although its emptiness of sleeping Housemates was hardly reassuring to Ginny.

Thankfully, she pulled of her cloak and sank onto her bed. It wasn't until she was ready to fall asleep that she realized the cloak she had thrown on the floor was not her own, but it belonged to her mysterious companion.

Curious, Ginny reached down and lifted the thick cloak onto her lap, searching for any house embroidery or names stitched into the cloth. Finally, some green thread on the inside collar caught her attention, and she peered closer, anxious to know who had comforted her when she was feeling so cold and shadowed.

Her stomach did a funny jolt and she dropped the cloak to the floor as she realized what was stitched into the fabric.

_Draco Malfoy._


	2. Snow on Snow

Ginny didn't eat anything at breakfast. She didn't seem to have any sort of appetite, and the memory of last night was still haunting her. She remembered the warmth emanating from Draco's body, and the comfort she felt as he eased his hands through her hair.

But it was _Draco. _Draco _Malfoy. _

"Morning," Harry told her, plopping down across the table with a grin on his face. "Happy Christmas Eve."

"What?" asked Ginny, jerked from her reverie.

Harry looked at her oddly. "I said Happy Christmas Eve!"

"Oh. You too, then, I guess."

Ron and Hermione joined them, looking excited.

"Guess what?" Hermione said, rubbing her hands together. "There's going to be a New Year's Masque!"

"We saw the sign in the Entrance Hall," Ron added happily.

Harry groaned. Hermione turned to him, confused. "What's wrong?"

"This means I'll have to _ask_ someone, and I'm _horrible_ at that," he moaned, rolling his eyes.

"You'll be fine," Ron affirmed, gulping down his porridge. "We've got a whole week."

"Ha!" said Hermione. "You'd be better off with a year, if you were working quickly." Ron glared at her.

"Ginny," Harry said suddenly, "why so glum?"

Ginny looked over at him and shrugged. "I think I might be getting sick," she lied.

Ron's glare turned quickly into a frown. "You're not eating enough, that's it," he said. "Go on, have some breakfast."

Ginny rounded on him. "Ron, I'm well aware Mum's been sending you owls! You think I'm blind? Stop ordering me around."

Ron had the grace to blush. "Mum specifically told me to look after you."

"Tell her I can look after myself."

"You're only sixteen," Ron huffed.

Ginny snarled, and Harry jumped. "That's old enough to know wrong from right." With that, she stormed from the Great Hall in out of the castle.

"What's _wrong _with her these days?!" Ron bellowed, throwing down his spoon.

(&)

Ginny plowed a clean path straight through the deep snow and to the forest. Finally reaching the thick black trees, she collapsed beneath one, glaring at the cloudy sky.

"Out of all the brothers in the bloody world, and in Hell for that matter, why was I cursed with that prat?!" she shouted, pounding her fist into the ground.

"Finally given in to the inevitable?" said a cold voice behind her. She twisted around.

"_Malfoy_," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the quickening wind.

He looked at her with soft eyes, but such a hard, hard face. "Good morning."

"It's—hardly good," She said quietly, uncertainty plain in her eyes. Since the night before, Ginny felt she couldn't yell at him.

She expected him to belittle her or ignore her or insult her family. But he was silent. She glanced up at him sharply and found him staring at her, searching her face with an amazed expression.

"Something wrong?" she asked worriedly, forgetting whom she was speaking to for a fleeting moment.

He blinked and looked away, but she could still see the surprise etched into his pale, angular features. "No," he answered curtly.

Ginny stood up clumsily from the freezing snow. Somehow, talking with Draco had quieted her anger at Ron. _Wait—Draco? Malfoy? The Slytherin? The Enemy? The Friend…? _Ginny didn't know what to call him. For some strange reason, 'Malfoy' seemed too formal. Ginny almost felt as if she and Draco had shared something important, something special; something beyond calling each other by their last names.

"Well…I…had better go," Ginny said into the confused silence. "I'll…see you in the halls." _Ouch—that was so bad it was painful, _Ginny thought to herself. Hastily, she smiled at him and turned away, but he didn't seem to notice. He was staring at the snow.

Suddenly, his cold, strong fingers clenched around her arm from behind and whipped her around to face him. This time, he looked straight into Ginny's eyes with such intensity that she shivered. His crystalline eyes were deep and unfathomable, set against his pale skin and silky hair perfectly.

"Weasley," he said, and his voice was much softer than Ginny had expected, "I'll be wanting that cloak back."

(&)

Ron had cooled down by the time he finished eating, and he quickly sought out Ginny for an apology.

"She's right," Harry said quietly to his friend as they followed Hermione. "She can handle herself now."

"I hope she can," Ron replied as they drew even with Hermione on the castle's front steps outside.

Hermione was gazing down the hill toward the Forbidden Forest, where two figures stood out against the snow. One was small and thin, with vibrant red hair—Ginny. The other, a tall, pale-haired figured dressed all in black, was clutching her arm and speaking to her.

"Malfoy!" Ron shouted, storming through the snow with a vengeance. "Get your hands off my sister!"

Malfoy let go abruptly and Ginny whirled around, both of them looking quite surprised. Ginny rolled her eyes and looked very exasperated when she realized who was shouting.

"I mean it, if you've done anything to her—" Ron began threateningly, reaching for his wand.

"Ron!" Hermione said sharply, pulling the wooden device away from him. "Don't."

Harry, on the other hand, really wanted Ron to curse the git. "What happened, Malfoy? Was your Youth Death Eater meeting cancelled, or something?"

Malfoy's expression hardened. "It's really _touching_ to see you sticking up for your little _girlfriend_ and all, but I really don't feel like sticking around for the Prat Party."

For some odd reason, Harry flushed, and he wouldn't meet Ginny's eyes. "Fine, go. But I think our Prat Party will be much more fun than your Fundraiser for Evil."

Malfoy blinked, but had the dignity _not _to argue over fundraisers. Instead he drew himself up to his full height, gave Ginny half a glance as if to relay a message that Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't comprehend, and then sauntered back up to the castle.

"Ginny," Ron said, hurrying over to him. "You okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ron, I'm _fine!_ Get off me, I'm perfectly all right."

Ron stepped away and looked at the snow. "Look, Gin, I'm sorry about this morning. I'm only trying to do what Mum asks—and it's only because I care for you. And listen, if Malfoy's giving you any trouble, just tell me—"

"He's not doing anything wrong. We were just talking. And I'm sorry as well," she interrupted.

Ron was obviously confused about the "just talking" part, but he was smart enough not to say anything. "Good," he said instead.

"Well, then," Hermione said lightly. "Now that we're all on good terms—who's up for some group studying?"

Everyone groaned.

(&)

That night, Ginny's nightmare returned. Her dormitory was utterly silent of breathing classmates, and so thick with shadows that Ginny felt suffocated.

Gradually, she fell asleep, terror still filling her mind as her eyes closed. Slowly but surely, images entered her mind, horrible visions of that young man whom she feared the most…

_She was alone, completely alone. The books along the library shelves were her only companions. They observed with unseeing eyes as she kept her silent vigil of studying through the night._

_Her candle began to burn low. Her eyes drooped with fatigue and her pale features were hollow and sickly. _

_But she couldn't sleep! She couldn't—_

_Before she knew what she was doing, the book was in front of her. Its black cover glinted with a royal purple sheen in the dying light. Royal—her king, her knight in shining armor. Dying—death—_

_She opened it. Her hand moved with inhuman speed across the page as she wrote to him._

**My name is Ginevra Weasley.**

_His charming, sly smile spread across the page, his eyes shining with an old malice reawakened. _

Hello again, Ginevra.

**You don't know me.**

I do. I know you better than anyone.

**No.**

Yes.

**No—**

_She threw the book down viciously, her heart beating faster. Fear unlike any she had ever felt before crept into her veins and froze her. Icy cold fear…_

_The book fell open. She could clearly see his face on the page, grinning a sick grin as he looked upon her frightened features._

_Gradually, his face materialized. He rose upward, and her mind screeched at her to run, but her feet were frozen to the floor. He took a step toward her, and another. In a moment, he was across the room, standing beside her, running long fingers across her cheek._

_She felt his sweet breath on her neck._

Yes, Ginevra, I do know you. I _own_ you.

_Only the books, her silent companions, heard her shrill scream. _

Ginny sat up sharply, sweat collecting on her brow and running down her face. Leaping out of bed, she realized that there were tears as well. 

She sobbed, racing down the steps to the common room. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace, but its warmth did not reach her. She felt so cold, so dark, so alone. So scared.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, taking in her disheveled appearance with wide, concerned eyes.

She ran to him, the last of her composure slipping away.

(&)

He heard her race into the room and whirled around.

"Ginny?"

Her hair was completely disheveled, standing every which way like unpredictable flames. Her cheeks were white as ivory, and tears flowed down them like rivers.

Before Harry could say anything more, she was next to him, sobbing into his shoulder like a toddler.

Her hands gripped his arm, and shivers ran down his spine at her touch. "Ginny," he murmured. "Ginny, you're freezing!" Hastily, he threw his blanket over her shoulders. She didn't seem to notice, but simply wept away, clutching him close as if she depended on him for life.

She seemed to cry forever, ugly visions that Harry could not fathom running through her mind. He could only hold her, letting her lean on his shoulder and cry into his shirt. He tried to warm her up, but other than that, could do nothing.

After a few long minutes, she fell asleep, still lying in his arms like a shattered porcelain doll.

Harry could only guess, sitting there beside her, what had caused her to break.

(&)

Ginny woke on the couch in the Gryffindor Common room, her head heavy and eyes puffy. She yawned and sat up, blinking at the sudden intrusion of the sun through the windows.

Then everything hit her. The empty dorm, the horrible nightmare, and Harry. Harry's warm arms, soft voice, willing embrace—he had been so kind.

Confusion fluttered in her heart for a moment as many thoughts rushed through her head, but she pushed them aside. She could think of Harry later, after today; after a joyous, carefree Christmas.

She stood slowly and began making her way across the common room, but stopped when she heard thunderous footsteps racing down the stairs.

"Ginny?" Ron burst out, looking happy. "What're you doing down here?"

Harry stood behind him, perfectly silent. She glanced over Ron's shoulder at him, and smiled gratefully. He hadn't said anything to her brother.

He grinned back shyly, winking. She blessed him.

"Well, I…couldn't sleep. It was too cold in my room, so I came to the fire," she replied, thinking quickly. Well, it was a half-truth, and that would have to do.

"It's Christmas! Have you seen your presents?" Ron roared. "Go on up, open them!"

She nodded at him and rushed up to her dormitory, only to find Hermione waiting on her bed.

"Ginny," she greeted, beaming. "Happy Christmas."

Ginny's fear from the night before had melted away. Ron's endless spirit was getting to her. "Happy Christmas!" She raced over to Hermione and gave her a large hug.

"Well, you've got presents, you know," the older Gryffindor said after a moment.

Ginny laughed and hurried to the foot of her bed. There was a neat stack of presents perched there.

Ginny suddenly thought of Ron and Harry, waiting below for the girls' reaction. "Hermione, can you help me carry these down? I want to open them with everyone."

She nodded and piled a few into her arms. Ginny followed her with the remaining gifts, stumbling off down the stairs.

"I couldn't open them without you," Ginny explained to Ron and Harry when they reached the common room.

"All right, then, this one first," Ron replied, handing her a neatly wrapped package. "It's from me."

"Thanks." Ginny pried her way through the perfect wrapping. "Did you wrap this, Ron?"

Hermione laughed at her disbelief. "No, I did it for him."

"Ah. I knew something was wrong when it looked so nice." Ginny pulled back the paper to reveal a set of pretty green combs. "Oh, Ron, they're beautiful." She hastily ran her fingers through her bright hair and slipping one into it.

"Green always did look good in your red hair," Ron told her, his ears red.

Ginny opened one from her mother, with the traditional Weasley sweater in it, periwinkle blue this time. There were a few others from dorm mates and friends, mostly sweets, until she came upon Harry's and Hermione's.

Hermione, predictably, gave her a book, but it wasn't a textbook. It was, instead, a thin novel, pocket-sized, titled The Hogwarts Four: Autobiographical and Ginny thought it looked rather interesting. "Thanks," she told Hermione, hugging her again. "Autobiographical, that should be intriguing!"

"You're welcome. I haven't read it yet, what with all my other work, but I thought you'd be interested."

Last was Harry's. "Be careful," he warned, "It's fragile."

She smiled at him nervously, peeling back the paper with thin, shaking fingers. Delicately, she peered between the wrapping anxiously, until a beautiful glass figure, prism-like, came into view.

"Oh, Harry!" she breathed, lifting it cautiously. "It's…amazing."

He smiled shyly.

Inspecting the figure closer, she realized with awe that it was a tiny glass model of Hogwarts. The light shining through the window reflected off it in a million rays of exquisite colors, gleaming on Ginny's face and hands. The most expert of craftsmen had made it, perfect down to the tiniest detail. Tiny log-ridden fires burst to life in the different rooms, and every last trinket Dumbledore owned could be accounted for in his office.

Looking closer, Ginny gasped in surprise. Sitting in her very spot in the Gryffindor common room was an exact model of herself, peering at a gleaming prism in her hands. Sitting beside here were Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all three looking closely at the model as well. Crookshanks slept in the corner, his tail flipping.

Ginny searched it yet again in utter disbelief. The castle was enchanted to show every creature or detail inside it. McGonagall was pacing her study…Flitwick was poring over a book on his desk…Nearly-Headless Nick floated along with the Hufflepuff Friar in the Astronomy Tower.

"Thank you, oh, thank you, Harry! This is perfect…it's so beautiful!" Ginny cried, carefully setting it down before giving him a clumsy hug. He laughed nervously, awkwardly patting her back, and blushed.

Ginny passed the castle to Hermione and Ron, who both exclaimed aloud as they discovered its secrets.

Finally, after every package had been opened and every 'thank you' given, the Gryffindors went up to their rooms to get ready for breakfast in the Great Hall.

Ginny showered and changed quickly, throwing on jeans and her new sweater. Then, seated upon her bed, she admired Harry's gift a little closer, and she found yet another magical trait: the model moved and changed as Hogwarts did. A staircase shifted on the third floor, a statue leapt aside to admit a student that looked like a Hufflepuff into her common room, and the Vanishing Cabinet appeared in the Entrance Hall.

Eyes roving, Ginny discovered a million secret passageways that Fred and George had never known. She followed one that snaked down the Charms hallway, headed toward the Great Hall, and then shot down a staircase straight to the dungeons. Continuing along the labyrinthine hallways of the Slytherin domain, Ginny came to the wall that hid the entry to the Slytherin common room. Moving past it into the room, she saw three figures seated on a couch before a dancing-flamed fire.

Ginny recognized one particularly loathsome girl as Pansy Parkinson. She was chatting stupidly away, unaware of the Gryffindor's gaze. Seated next to her was a young Slytherin boy, rather handsome, with softly chiseled hair and high cheekbones.

Then, staring into the flames, lost in his own thoughts, sat Draco Malfoy.

Ginny noticed that he was still wearing his green silk pajamas and long bathrobe, and giggled suddenly. She felt like a silly schoolgirl as she watched him, giving the occasional answer to Pansy's pesky questions. Mostly, he didn't move, just sat silently and mulled over something.

_He's probably got a million gifts, _she thought, _what with his rich father and all. _But he didn't look too happy. _Perhaps he hasn't gotten what he wants?_

A thought soared into Ginny's mind like an arrow. She remembered the night she had secretly shared with Draco—not secret anymore, it seemed. He knew about the cloak, he knew about her, he knew about everything.

But Ginny couldn't help feeling connected to him somehow, as if that night had bonded them in a way no hatred could break. Connected enough to owe him a Christmas present…even a simple little gift. It would have to be late, but maybe that evening she could whip something up and give it to him…she felt queasy and nervous at the idea of giving Draco Malfoy a gift. Surely he would only laugh at her. But it was worth a try, because friends always give an effort for other…friends. Besides, she didn't really hate him anymore.

Had she _ever_ really hated him?

Ginny shook the deep thoughts from her head, unwilling to think that hard on Christmas day. She watched the model instead as Draco rose and headed up to his dormitory to shower and change for breakfast.

A devilish grin split across Ginny's face as she realized the true power of the object she possessed. It allowed her free view of everything—_everything—_including Draco Malfoy in the shower. She was suddenly tempted as he headed into his dormitory…

Hermione came into her door, and Ginny nervously shoved the castle out of sight.

"What?" Hermione asked her, looking suspicious. "You're grinning like a cat that's just found the cream."

Ginny tried to look innocent. "No, I'm not."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it. Instead, she asked, "Ready for breakfast?"

"Sure," Ginny replied, following her back to the common room.

As Ginny walked with Harry, Ron, and Hermione down to the Great Hall, she marveled at the mysterious object Harry had given her, and grinned again at the thought of everything she could use it for…

(&)


	3. Give My Heart

Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Harry arrived for breakfast in the Great Hall on Christmas morning to find it surprisingly empty of students. There were only three House tables left in the room, with the Hufflepuff table pushed up against the wall.

"Students," Dumbledore announced from his position at the high table, "seeing as there are only two Hufflepuff students remaining, their places have been moved to the Gryffindor table."

"Oh, this should be interesting," Hermione said, looking apprehensively over to the Gryffindor table, where two Hufflepuffs were taking their seats.

"What's interesting about Hufflepuffs?" Ron asked her, seeming doubtful.

"Well, we'll be able to chat with them, won't we? And rarely do we get to spend time in close interaction with other House members—besides in class, that is, when all we're doing is schoolwork anyhow," Hermione explained.

"Since when is schoolwork unimportant to you?" Ron threw at her.

"I never said it was unimportant! But you don't learn much about a person when you're doing Transfiguration with them, do you? I suppose Dumbledore's just trying to promote Inter-House relationships now."

Ginny's ears perked up at 'Inter-House relationships', but she lost interest when she realized it was just another debate between Ron and Hermione. Instead, she glanced over at Harry, who had come to walk next to her.

He bent over to say something in Ginny's ear. "They need to stop fooling themselves and get together," Harry told her, half-laughing, indicating Ron and Hermione.

She grinned at him, nodding. "Yeah," she murmured, "yeah, they do."

They reached the Gryffindor table at that moment and Harry took a seat across the table from Ginny. But she felt an immediate rush of gratitude for all his comfort the night before, and decided to thank him profusely later for it—especially for the part where he didn't tell Ron anything.

Ginny had seated herself between the two Hufflepuff students—one tall, blond boy whom she remembered as Zacharias Smith and a shorter girl in Ron's year named Hannah Abbot, both from the DA. Zacharias was picking away at his food, purposefully ignoring the Gryffindors, while Hannah Abbot immediately struck up a conversation with Hermione.

"So," Ginny began, unable to stand the silence between she and Smith after a few awkward minutes had passed. "how have you been?"

Zacharias turned to stare at her in surprise. "Me?" he asked, obviously taken aback.

Ginny rolled her eyes, suddenly remembering how aggravating this Hufflepuff had been. "No, the _other _person I'm looking straight in the eye."

She expected him to explode, or at least defend his dignity. But instead, to her amazement, he burst out laughing. "You _are_ the sarcastic Weasley, aren't you?"

She shrugged. "What is that supposed to mean?"

His expression turned serious, and he studied her face closely. Ginny could feel him assessing her, and she wondered what he was thinking. Finally, ignoring her questions, he said, "You're good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. I remember from a couple years ago."

"I've had a bit of practice."

He cocked his head, confused. He obviously didn't know that she was referring to her first year at Hogwarts.

Ginny retreated briefly into her own mind, and wondered whether Tom Riddle—she shuddered at the name—really had given her the practice she needed to improve so greatly. A shadow of doubt flashed through her mind.

_Perhaps, _she thought,_ it wasn't practice that he gave me. After all, did I fight back? _She scolded herself numbly. _No. Not nearly hard enough, anyhow. He took me over—controlled me—fed off my secrets and my soul. Perhaps,_ she mused, _it wasn't practice he gave me. It was a taste of his power, a wisp of complete brilliance, which is left behind in my soul today. _

_Yes, _she thought bitterly, _there is a bit of his triumph left in me._

"Um… Weasley?" Zacharias said sharply, and Ginny snapped to attention. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, clearing it of the shattered thoughts and horrors left behind from that torturous year. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine…"

He stared at her, concern and curiosity shaping his features. Ginny looked away, avoiding his interested stare. She felt a little defensive of herself, and a sudden unjustifiable annoyance toward the Hufflepuff descended upon her. After all, what business was this of his?

Fortunately, he changed the subject. "So, how are all your classes going?"

"Fine," she lied, still shaken up.

"Really?" he seemed almost admiring. "I'm doing horribly in Potions—then again, all the Hufflepuffs are; Snape's not too fond of us."

Loosening up a little, and feeling slightly guilty from her unexplained anger, Ginny answered truthfully. "Actually, I'm failing Transfiguration and Charms." He quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

_He's kind of cute when he does that, _a voice said in Ginny's head, but she immediately cast it aside. What was she becoming, some sort of fall-for-anyone girl? More confused thoughts on Draco entered her mind, but she threw those out as well.

"How can you fail those? They're my easiest classes," he said, a little arrogantly.

"Well, I'm top of my class in Potions," Ginny replied.

Surprise swept through his pride. "Really? A Gryffindor?"

"For some reason…" Ginny didn't know how to explain herself. "I'm not a logical person," she said finally. "I don't like Transfiguration for that reason, so I don't do the work. Potions, on the other hand… Potions is brilliantly _il_logical. And because I do well and stay pretty quiet in class, Snape let's me get by."

Zacharias marveled at her. "_You_ manage to be quiet in that class? How?"

Ginny chuckled at his obvious disbelief. "Fred and George seem to have affected me more than I knew. You see, I may not like the slimy git, but I can be manipulative when I try."

"Manipulative?" he repeated sarcastically. "Try melodramatic."

Ginny snickered again, feeling good for the first time in days. After all the gift giving, and a nice meal, and this cheery chat, she was starting to feel comfort once again.

But then the tables were cleared and then chatter began to die away as people rose to go up to their dormitories.

"Nice talking to you," Ginny told Zacharias, rising from her seat. "See you around."

"Yeah," he said, standing up as well. She turned to leave, but he stopped her. "Weasley? Would you mind helping me in Potions, one of these days?"

She stared at him, surprised. "What?"

He seemed a little embarrassed to be asking her for help. "You know, tutoring. Just some weekday evening in the library…"

She shrugged, but smiled at him. "That wouldn't be a problem. You can help me with Transfiguration as well."

He grinned back at her genuinely. "It's a deal—five o'clock Wednesday good for you?"

"Yeah, fine," Ginny replied, before waving to him and stalking after Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

(&)

Ginny tied the last bow around the package with a flourish, grinning. I would be interesting to see Draco's reaction as she presented him with this gift. Would he mock her? Laugh at her? Throw it away? Or would he be grateful? The idea of Draco Malfoy being grateful to _her,_ Ginevra Weasley, was ludicrous, and yet, after that night, anything seemed possible.

Sneaking out of her empty dormitory, Ginny crept across the silent common room and slipped out the portrait hole. The Fat Lady looked curious and a little disapproving, but she said nothing to Ginny's retreating back.

The dungeons were freezing cold, and Ginny had to force herself to keep walking. It seemed like ages that she wandered, wondering how stupid she had been to go down there anyhow.

After all, she was a Gryffindor; she had no idea where the Slytherin common room was. She thought she would have at least come across something by now—something entrance-like—but she had had no luck.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps up ahead. It could have been a teacher, but she took the risk, and hurried around the corner to meet whomever lay beyond.

It was Blaise Zabini, the tall, dark, and handsome Slytherin whom Ginny had seen in the glass figure of Hogwarts earlier that day. He was, apparently, a prefect, and patrolling the halls for students out of bed.

"What have we here?" he said softly, but to Ginny's surprise, he didn't sound sneering. He was, in fact, smiling slightly, with a glint in his eyes and curiosity in his tone.

_What is happening to all the Slytherins these days? _Ginny thought wildly before replying, "I'm looking for the Slytherin common room."

"And yet," Blaise observed, "you are not a Slytherin."

"Good on you for that one," Ginny said sarcastically.

"Weasley, isn't it?" Blaise asked suddenly, taking a step closer and looking somewhat frightening.

Ginny, feeling very tired by that time, answered, "The one and only."

"Actually, I've heard that there are millions of you."

Ginny, feeling a malicious statement about her family coming on, stood up straighter to show that she could take it. When Blaise said nothing, she stared at him, surprised and amazed.

"Feeling under the weather, Weasley?" he asked suddenly.

Taken completely off guard by his abrupt question, Ginny was surprised into a quick and truthful answer. "How did you know?"

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Anyone who looks twice at you could see that much."

Angry with herself for her last answer, Ginny shot at him, "You've been looking twice at me?"

Blaise was now standing quite close, and looking very deeply into Ginny's eyes. She registered dully that his eyes were a warm sort of brown, with green shooting off from the pupils.

Finally, after a long silence, he replied, "Perhaps."

Ginny stepped backwards and looked at the floor. _What is that obvious? _The nightmares had been plaguing her for a few days now, but she hadn't known that something was so visibly wrong. Sure, the lack of sleep made her look a bit too pale, and she had lost some weight. But no Slytherin should know or care…

"The common room," he said quietly, but Ginny didn't look up, "is down the hall and to the left. The password is 'brimstone'. Say it and the wall will open."

"Thanks," Ginny mumbled, rushing past him feeling a little afraid and very confused.

(&)

"Brimstone!" Ginny said loudly, and just as Blaise had promised, the door slid open. The common room that lay beyond was green, black, cold, dark, and apparently empty.

_Great, _Ginny thought. _Lovely plan, Gin. You can really give him a gift when he isn't here!_

But then Draco staggered over from the corner, looking very shaken to see her standing there.

"Welcome," he said finally, though still sounding shocked, "to our humble abode."

"I don't think 'humble' is the correct word to use when describing anything of a Slytherin's," Ginny replied, but her voice was all sarcasm and no real malice. She stepped into the common room determinedly, clutching the package tightly. Draco made no move to stop her.

"How'd you get here?" Draco demanded softly. _Well, at least he hasn't thrown me out yet._

"Blaise told me where it was."

"Zabini did?" If it was possible, he seemed even more surprised. "And he told you the password?"

"Yes."

"Why?!" Draco was always perfectly collected, and seeing him so amazed was an interesting sight for Ginny. She liked it; it made him seem more human.

Standing tall, Ginny stepped toward him. He did not move. "I was looking for you."

He raised an eyebrow, but did not step away or yell at her.

Being this close to him again sent shivers down Ginny's spine. She remembered that night, when she and Draco unknowingly created an odd bond that Ginny couldn't seem to break. All the memories of Draco's unkind words in the years before were not enough to make Ginny want to leave the common room. In fact, they just made her want to stay, and uncover the true meaning as to why Draco had changed so drastically.

His platinum hair hung feather-light to the tops of his ears. His eyes were bright with confusion and what looked like… _Hope? _His skin was milky white. Ginny felt a sudden longing to brush her fingers against it, and find out if it was as soft as it looked—

"Well?" Draco asked quietly, startling Ginny out of her reverie.

"Er…" Ginny abruptly felt a bit foolish and very crazy. "Happy Christmas."

His hands were limp with surprise and he had no choice but to accept the package thrust at him as Ginny spun on her heels and hurried from the common room, before she could do anything stupid.

(&)

Draco stared numbly at the package in his hands for a few moments before another person entered the common room. Footsteps approached him, and he felt an insane hope in his chest that perhaps the little Weasley had come back…but no, Draco realized as he looked up, it was just Blaise Zabini.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" the young man pressed, grinning wryly at Draco. "She went to all that trouble just to wrap it nicely for you—"

"Zabini," Draco said, softly but sternly, "go to bed."

The Slytherin stood still defiantly, but when Draco shot him a commanding glare, Blaise stalked proudly up to his rooms, muttering something under his breath.

Draco was left alone with his gift. Slowly, he sat down before the fire and began to peel back the paper, savoring every moment of suspense.

Finally, when the gift lay open on his lap, he let out a low chuckle.

It was his cloak, the same thick black cloak that he had given to his mystery visitor that night on the tower.

The mystery visitor that turned out to be Ginny.

_But you can't say that you regret it, can you? _Draco thought to himself, and he realized that the question was true. He was not disappointed; in fact, he felt an odd sort of pleasure and, dare he say it, happiness.

Casting those deep, almost frightening thoughts aside, he turned his attention instead to the note sticking out of the pocket. Peeling it open, he read a short message in tiny, neat handwriting.

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for…everything. I hope you have a happy Christmas and enjoy your holidays._

_Sincerely,_

_Ginny Weasley_

_P.S. Check the pocket. The character on the necklace is an old wizarding rune. I'm not sure exactly what it means._

Hands shaking slightly, Draco pulled from the pocket a long black string tied in a loop. Dangling from the end was a sterling silver rune, which glinted in the firelight.

Draco nearly dropped it in surprise as he recognized the symbol. He wasn't in Advanced Ancient Runes for nothing; it was one of his best subjects.

And he was good enough to know that this character was the symbol for _love_.

(&)


	4. I Would Do My Part

"Harry," Ginny called softly, and the young man peering pensively into the fire looked up sharply. His vibrant green eyes came slowly into focus until he was able to recognize the pajama-clad girl, bathed softly in firelight.

Remembering Ginny's unjustified tears, Harry felt fear and concern lock in his stomach. "Ginny? Are you all right?"

Ginny smiled at him, shoving fiery hair behind her shoulder and thumping down onto the couch beside him. "Fine, thanks to you."

Harry raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore how close she was to him. "What did I do?"

For a brief moment, Ginny's eyes clouded over with the memory of some nightmare that was lost to him. "You comforted me when I was… in pain. And you didn't tell my brother, which is an amazing feat, seeing as he is one of your best friends."

Harry noticed how hard it was for Ginny to acknowledge the pain and fear she had been feeling—and showing—of late. What was hurting her so much? Why was it so hard for her to face? He then remembered an encounter of a few days before; he remembered discovering Malfoy with his hand locked on Ginny's arm. "Ginny?" Her thin, pale face turned up to his. "May I ask—what's going on between you and Malfoy?"

Ginny looked down again, and Harry misread her reluctance to answer, taking it to be a sign of Malfoy's guilt. "No, Harry, you may not," she replied, only sealing Harry's suspicion.

Harry put a gentle hand on her slender arm. "You can't keep it inside of yourself. I promise not to tell Ron—"

Ginny stood up suddenly, and Harry's hand dropped heavily to the couch cushion. "I meant what I said," she snapped, her body tense. "You have no right to ask questions."

She turned back to the stairs leading up to her dormitory, her eyes blazing, but Harry immediately sought to mend his outspokenness. "Never mind, then. Don't go—we don't have to talk about it."

Ginny stopped and turned back to him, her shoulders relaxed, but her amber eyes still challenging. "Actually, I think I'm kind of tired. But I mean it, Harry, thank you for everything. Your gift, your comfort, and your _trustworthiness_." She practically spat the last word out.

Harry's eyes pleaded with her to stay, his need laid bare in his desperation not to let her walk away angry. "Gin—"

"Goodnight, Harry." With that, she turned and ascended the stairs, and Harry watched with disappointment as the last glinting color of her flaming hair dissolved into the shadows of the girl's dormitories.

(&)

Draco breathed in the crisp air of the new day from the window of his dormitory. Leaning out dangerously to survey the winter panorama, he decided that the landscape reminded him of Ginny; it was chilled and removed, but still beautiful and untouchable.

_I must not be fully awake yet, _Draco thought to himself as he realized how many other confusing emotions were laced into his assessment. Retreating back into his room, he shut out the frosted winter world with a click of the window latch. _Perhaps, _a sly voice murmured in Draco's mind, _you're letting that charm get to you._

But Ginny hadn't know what the charm meant upon giving the gift—had she? Surely it was all a mistake. Draco shouldn't get all riled up about it.

These attempts at calm thoughts did nothing to console Draco. After all, a perfectly eligible, good-looking girl had just given him a gift that could be taken as a declaration of certain complicated—if not unwanted—feelings.

_No, no, **no!** _Draco's head screamed. Sure, she was pretty and more likeable by far than Draco had expected, but there was one minor difficulty. _Minor, _mind you—after all, their families were only mortal enemies.

_Hey, it worked with Romeo and Juliet, _Draco's inner voice stated, before caustically adding,_ before they died tragic, misunderstood deaths._

Confused by his emotions and all the events of the past few days, Draco abruptly ended his conversation with himself and began getting dressed for breakfast.

(&)

Ginny avoided Harry at breakfast, sitting at the other end of the table between Seamus Finnegan and Dennis Creevey. Although she could feel Harry's eyes on her, she did not look at him.

After all, what right had he to push his nose into her business? It was bad enough having six older brothers. Was Harry becoming overly protective too? Ginny stabbed a potato angrily, feeling defensive.

"What did that poor potato do to you?" A soft Irish voice chuckled.

Ginny looked up sharply to find Seamus grinning. "Nothing," Ginny said lamely, feeling as though she should reply.

Seamus grin faded and his eyes became concerned. "What's the matter, Ginny?"

This was the wrong question. Jumping up from her seat, Ginny shouted, "Why do you care?! It's none of your business! Can't you people just _leave me alone!!_"

Seamus gaped at her, severely stunned, as did the rest of Gryffindor table. Angry with them all, Ginny violently threw down her fork and ran from the hall.

The shocked table was suddenly very silent. As the doors to the Entrance Hall banged behind Ginny, causing several others from different Houses to stare, whispers broke out.

"I'm going after her," Harry told Hermione and Ron, standing up quickly.

Ron grabbed his elbow. "No! Bad idea."

Harry jerked free. "Ron, someone's got apologize!"

Ron shook his head, and Hermione pulled Harry back on to the bench.

"Trust me, mate, I've been her brother for sixteen years. Don't ever approach Ginny when she's in a rage."

Harry sighed, defeated, and sat down, still staring longingly at the doors.

(&)

Ginny trudged away from Hogwarts as fast as she could, glad to leave the overprotective Gryffindors behind. _Why can't they leave me alone? _She thought angrily as she marched up the hill above the castle. _When did my business become everyone else's?_

Blinded by her rage, Ginny was unprepared when she tripped over something hard and solid sitting atop the hill. Stumbling, she tried to catch herself, but overbalanced and fell to the soft, cold snow. Quickly, she sat up, but she could already feel the wetness seeping through her robes and clinging to her hair.

"We meet again, Littlest Weasley," Blaise Zabini called from where he sat on a patch of cleared ground. The snow rose around him, making his black hair sharp in contrast.

"Unfortunately," she snapped back at him, rising smoothly to her feet and dusting herself off.

He smiled. "Having a hard day?"

"Why," she muttered angrily, "does every Gryffindor think that they have a right to my business?" Ginny studied him closely as he stretched languidly at her feet. "Are _all _the houses as nosy as the Gryffindors?"

He shrugged. "Most Slytherins keep to themselves, and the Hufflepuffs don't have any juicy business to nose into. As for the Ravenclaws, your guess is as good as mine."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What, haven't slept with one of them lately?"

She regretted her words immediately. She never talked with Blaise Zabini. She had no idea what his temper was like. And she wasn't in the mood to find out. Hastily, she tried to stutter something, but to her surprise, he burst out laughing.

"Little Weasley," he said between chuckles, "I haven't even slept with a Hufflepuff. And of course, I could never catch a Gryffindor."

She glared at him, but with no real dislike. "I resent that."

"The fact that I've never slept with a Gryffindor?" He asked, startled.

It was her turn to laugh. "No. 'Little Weasley'."

"Ah." He grinned. "Don't worry, I don't underestimate you like your brother and his mates do."

This surprised Ginny – she had never guessed that this Slytherin knew so much about her. Or, for that matter, that _any _Slytherin would know so much about her. "How did you… what do you mean?"

"I'm not blind," he began. "Certainly not when it comes to you –"

But he was cut off then as someone else came over the top of the mountain. Ginny spun around at the sound of their footsteps, only to see Draco Malfoy, skin as pale as the snow beneath his feet.

(&)

He had no idea what possessed him to follow her. Draco's mind had started spinning when he saw her walk out of the Great Hall, and his feet had taken things from there. Fortunately, everyone was too busy gossiping about Ginny's suspicious exit to notice him slip away. _Thank Merlin for that, _he thought. _I may be losing my mind and my heart, but I won't be losing my reputation._

Luckily, it was at that moment that Ginny noticed Draco walking her way. Surprise flashed across her features, distracting him from the dangerous path his thoughts had been traversing.

Both Ginny and Draco opened their mouths to speak, but Blaise was fastest. "Welcome to the party, Malfoy."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the other Slytherin boy. What was _he_ doing here? "I'm truly sorry for you if this is your idea of a party."

Blaise quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, and your pow-wows in the corner of the Slytherin common room with only library book for company are _exciting?_"

Ginny's voice was quiet but defensive. "Hey, sometimes books are the best company."

"Personally, I think _you're _the best company, Little –"

Draco and Ginny spoke simultaneously, turning on Blaise.

"I told you not to call me that," said Ginny.

"Put a sock in it, Zabini, before you make her vomit," said Draco.

Blaise scowled at the two of them, but said nothing. The silence lengthened. After a while, Draco turned away from Blaise and let his gaze wander to Ginny. He discovered with some surprise that she was staring at him. It was even more startling when she did not look away; instead, she opened her mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again, and… closed it with a look of frustration.

Draco tried to speak for her, but he was shocked at the words produced by his rogue mouth. "Thanks for the present, Weasley. At least I got one thing I liked this year."

It was Ginny's turn to be surprised. Her eyes widened, but she smiled hesitantly. "I had hoped…" She stopped. "It wasn't much," she said finally.

Draco's mind completely lost control of his body for a moment. He felt his muscles move into a smile, and knew that he was helpless to resist. Ginny, too, was grinning a little bit. They stared at each other, both feeling equally shocked but in a rather pleasant way.

Blaise was mumbling something, which they ignored. "Bloody idiots."

(&)


	5. He Comes To Reign

**Author Notes: **Okay, first off: A _gigantic _huggle to everyone who reviewed the past four chapters: rgFaNaTiC, LunarianPrincess, evil woman blues, pamie884, Kirjava Daemon (wow, you are too kind!), Toes of the Tickled Kind (sorry to make you sign in, but I love you for doing it), beckysue2 (yeah, Ginny is confused by her behavior too), Hoppers, dracolovesginny (I don't want to say too much, but your last review hit the nail on the head ), and HRInuyashaFan16 (do YOU think Ginny is lying? Hehe). Honestly, you guys have made my YEAR! Thank you endlessly for your kind words. And secondly, I'm sorry this chapter is such a short one, but chapter six – in which Ginny and Zacharias have an interesting study session – will be juicy. I just liked the way this ended, so I decided not to write more. Thirdly, and most importantly: ENJOY!

P.S. The title of this story is taken from the poem **In The Bleak Midwinter** by Christina Rosetti. All chapter titles are phrases from the same poem.

(&)

"Ginny, hold up!"

Ginny stopped as the sound of her name hit her. She turned around, searching the hallway for whoever had been calling for her. A few yards away, some Ravenclaws were exchanging chocolate frog cards; a Slytherin couple was snogging behind the statue on Ginny's left; and Harry Potter was racing down the center of the hall toward her.

"Oh… hello, Harry." Ginny smiled.

"Ginny," he said, out of breath. "I had to call your name five times." He grinned. "Something on your mind?"

_More like some**one**, _Ginny thought wryly as Draco's face swam through her consciousness, but it would take all three of the Unforgiveable Curses to get her to admit that to Harry. Instead, she replied, "Yeah, I guess so. What did you need me for?"

"I – I just wanted to talk," he said. He gripped her elbow and pulled her down the hall and around the corner. Ginny, confused though she was, let him drag her to an empty section of hallway. He then let her go and turned to face her. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Harry…" Ginny berated herself mentally. She should have known this was coming; Harry was so chivalric as to feel guilty when anyone snapped at him.

"No, really. As if your mum wasn't enough, you've got six brothers watching you also. You don't need one more person on your back. I won't bother you again."

"I trust you, Harry," Ginny told him, and she meant it. "I appreciate the fact that you are here for me. But you have to trust me as well. You have to know that when I need to tell you something, I will… but no sooner."

He studied his feet. "I do trust you, Ginny. It's Malfoy whom I don't trust."

Ginny's hackles rose, but she kept her outward appearance calm and her voice even. "Malfoy has nothing to do with it."

Harry met her eyes. "What exactly is 'it'?"

Ginny sighed. She couldn't tell Harry about Tom… it wasn't something he'd understand. He'd been faced with the prospect of battling Voldemort all his life; he had come to take Voldemort for granted. He didn't know what the young Voldemort was like. He didn't know about _Tom._

But did anyone? Would anyone listen to her? Was there anyone besides Harry whom she _could _tell?

Ginny sighed. "I can't tell you what I don't know myself, Harry," she said simply. "But I accept your apology. No more worries, right?"

"Right," Harry answered. He smiled, but it didn't hide the confusion in his eyes.

Ginny knew he wouldn't give it up. Harry Potter just wasn't like that. "I – I have to go," she said hastily, trying to run from the questions that surely would come.

She felt Harry's eyes on her back as she rushed down the hallway and spun around the corner.

(&)

Fortunately for Ginny, Ron and Hermione occupied much of Harry's time over the next couple of days. They were, after all, his best friends; Ginny wasn't part of their inner circle. He could only spend so much time thinking about her. She was an extra, a sidekick, a fallback plan… and she knew it.

Ginny watched them from her silent corner in the Gryffindor common room. They were laughing, huddling close to the fire and murmuring under their breaths. It was easy to see that they were meant to be close; they virtually completed each other. Harry was the determined one, Ron was the reckless one (although Harry gave him a run for his money sometimes), and Hermione was the intelligent one. They were all powerful, each in their own way.

Ginny knew that a part of her had always been jealous of that. Friendship was priceless and precious, as fragile as glass and as lasting as gold. It was also something she'd never truly had in her life. There was respectful love for her parents, there was honest love for her brothers, there was lustful love for boys… but there had never been any pure love, the uncorrupted love of friendship. Not for Ginny.

And yet a separate piece of Ginny knew that she would never find friendship from her brother and his two companions. They would always be loyal and caring to her, yes. But they could never give her what they gave each other. They could never love a new friend with the same magnitude. Three is a crowd… four is too many. This Ginny knew.

So who _could_ be her friend? Was she destined to live an eternally lonely life? For a moment, Ginny imagined herself as an old maid, living in a secluded cottage far from the world and from humanity. _This_, she thought dryly, _could easily come to pass. _But a different part of her mind summoned a different picture: Ginny could find both lustful love and true love in one person, one soul mate. _One man._

Ginny shivered. Where were these thoughts coming from? No specific man had come to mind, but a sudden sense of urgency had come over her. Some emotion that she was unable to control had descended upon her; she felt drawn to some mysterious person. Somewhere in the world, someone held Ginny's heart in his hands.

The only problem? She hadn't met them yet.

Or had she?

(&)


	6. The Beloved

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, none of it is mine. Instead, _Harry Potter_ et al belongs to JK Rowling and_In The Bleak Midwinter_ belongs to Christina Rosetti.

**Author Notes: **Again, I extend a million thanks to all my reviewers! This chapter may seem slightly less angsty than the rest – I admit, it is verging on fluffy – but the sub-category of this fic IS romance, so you can't say I didn't warn you. Hope you like it!

(&)

The shadows in the Gryffindor common room grew longer as the winter sun began to set. Though it was still early in the evening, dinner was fast approaching, and many of the students crawled up to their dormitories to shower or change from casual wear to robes. Lessened as their numbers were due to the holidays, soon only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were left reading before the fire.

"Want to join us for a game of Exploding Snap, Gin?" Harry asked.

Ginny glanced up from the book she'd been reading to her wristwatch. Her eyes widened as she realized what time it really was. "Merlin! Harry, I'm sorry, but I've got to go." It was five minutes past five. She'd already kept Zacharias Smith waiting for five minutes. Add five more for the journey from the tower to the library, and he might not be there when Ginny arrived.

Harry's eyebrows had shot up and the question was written all over his face, but Ginny was in too much of hurry to explain. Ron's mouth opened, but Ginny interrupted him, saying, "I'll see you in the Great Hall at dinner."

"Bye," Hermione said loudly, trying to cover the boys' protests. She and Ginny exchanged knowing smiles before the youngest Weasley disappeared through the Fat Lady's portrait.

(&)

Ginny paid no attention to her surroundings as she raced down the stairs to the library. Paintings flew by on either side of her; she skidded around corners and practically leaped down the halls. Thus, it was not surprising when she ended up running into someone and landing in an ungraceful pile on the floor.

"I'll certainly have a few interesting bruises tomorrow."

A week ago, Ginny would have greeted the voice with scorn. Two days ago, Ginny hadn't known what to greet it with. That evening, for some strange reason, she grinned wryly up at the speaker.

"Grace has never been on my list of virtues," Ginny explained as she pulled herself up.

"That much is obvious," Draco Malfoy replied, surveying her with a mock-smirk on his face but a humorous glint in his eyes. Then he smiled.

Ginny felt a tingle shimmy its way up her spine. She had come to expect the unexpected with Draco; what she hadn't come to grips with was what she felt about it. Did she _like _it? Hard as it was to admit, deep down she knew that she didn't _dis_like it. What did that mean? She just couldn't answer.

Draco's smile faded, but his eyes were bright. "So what lucky student are you so anxious to meet?"

Ginny didn't know whether or not this was meant to be a compliment, but she treasured it all the same. "Actually, I'm off to the library. Tutoring, you know. I'm, er… failing a couple of things." Normally, she'd be hesitant to admit this to anyone… but after that night, she felt she could tell Draco anything. It was an amazing feeling, but a frightening one as well. It seemed that everything was ambiguous with Draco now.

He looked surprised. "Tutoring? With whom?"

"Zacharias Smith. Blond, Hufflepuff…"

Something flickered in Draco's eyes. "Right. Snarky bloke."

Ginny snorted. "You're one to talk," she teased. She was trying to hide her amazement with playfulness, for was that _jealousy _she saw in Draco's stone-colored eyes?

He smiled again, but it didn't hide the other emotions. Ginny had learned to read him; she followed the flickerings of his eyes and the movements of his jaw. She knew that he felt _something_; the hardest part was deciding exactly _what_.

After watching him for a moment, she just shrugged it off. She was imagining things. She would be thinking too much of herself to imagine that Draco was jealous of another boy over her. Ginny Molly Weasley? _No way. _

"Good luck bringing up those marks," he told her after a short silence.

Ginny nodded her thanks. "I'm glad you don't have the same problem." Then she swung her bag over her shoulder and hurried off down the hall. She was even later now; she wouldn't blame Smith if he'd left ages ago.

She was in such a rush that she didn't notice the silver-haired Slytherin following her.

(&)

"Sorry," Ginny said breathlessly as she slid into the seat beside Zacharias. "I ran into someone on my way down." _Literally,_ she thought, and smiled to herself.

"No problem," he replied. He indicated the book that was open in front of him. "Mind if we start with Potions? I'm supposed to make a bit of Confusing Concoction…"

Ginny sighed, relieved. At least he hadn't made a big deal out of her being late. "Sure. So what don't you understand?"

He pointed at the list of ingredients. "None of the measurements are exact. It all says 'a pinch' or 'a handful.' My potion always turns out horribly because I can't get the amounts right."

Ginny sighed. "I know it's aggravating when they don't use real measurements. But the one thing I love about Potions is its logic. You don't have to think on another level; you don't need a broad mind to walk into the classroom and succeed. Potions are _literal_. So take it literally."

"You mean, actually pinch a bit of ingredients and put it in?" His brows knitted. "But… isn't it dangerous? Couldn't you be putting in the wrong amount?"

"If the recipe doesn't ask for specific measurements, it can't be that dangerous when a little less or a little more goes it."

"But… it seems so simple."

Ginny laughed at the doubtful expression on his face. "Sometimes simplest is best."

Zacharias shrugged. Then he turned his large blue eyes onto Ginny and met her gaze. Several long minutes of silence passed; Ginny grew more and more uncomfortable as she waited for him to say something or look away. Finally, just as she opened her mouth to break the discomfort, he spoke.

"Will you go to the Masque with me?"

(&)

Draco could hardly believe his ears. Had he misjudged the friendship between Ginny and Smith? He thought they were merely acquaintances; he'd never seen them together before. He'd never even seen them _speak_ to each other. What had brought on this sudden question?

The real confusion Draco felt was not over why Smith had asked, but over what Ginny would answer. Strangely, Draco felt a strong desire _not_ to see them together. In fact, his emotions ran wild at the thought. He couldn't let Smith have her for the evening; he couldn't give her up that easily!

_Wait – when did she become mine for the giving up anyhow?_

That annoying voice that's always present when you don't want it to be answered, _That night._

That one oddly magical night.

Suddenly, Draco knew what he had to do. Without pausing for thought of consequences, he burst out from his hiding place behind the bookshelf and stalked to Ginny's side.

(&)

"The – the masque?" Ginny asked, dumbstruck. Her mind had gone numb.

Zacharias looked a bit nervous at her reaction. "The New Year's Masque. Will you be my date?"

Ginny blinked. She was completely stunned. She was here to study, and nothing more. What was this, and where was it coming from? Sure, she thought Smith was cute… but she couldn't even call him by his first name, not even in her thoughts! "I – I…" she stuttered, trying to buy time.

Then an easily recognizable drawl said, "She's already going with someone else."

Ginny whirled in her chair. Zacharias was a second slower than her. Both of their eyes widened when they saw Draco standing there, his jaw clenched and a determined look in his eyes.

"What?!" Zacharias and Ginny asked simultaneously.

"She already has a date," Draco explained, his voice stern.

"I do?" Ginny asked.

Fortunately, Zacharias didn't hear her. He was too busy demanding, "Who is it?"

Draco shot Ginny half a glance – _Will she hate me for it? _– before sticking his chin in the air and replying, "Me."

(&)

Ginny would have been less surprised if Draco had come out wearing a dress and singing a Celestina Warbeck song. She felt as if he'd slapped her in the face. Gaping up at him, she vaguely registered the sound of Zacharias saying, "What? Malfoy?! Ginny… is this true?"

But Ginny couldn't take her eyes of Draco. He was watching her closely, and rather than malicious – _Is this some sort of trick? – _they were worried, anxious, hopeful. Ginny couldn't believe. _Does he mean this?!_

Then, suddenly and amazingly and impossibly, he smiled. And seeing those thin lips curl upward, full of pleading hope, convinced Ginny. She knew this was true; she also knew without a second's hesitation that she had wanted it to be true. She wanted to go with Draco; she wanted him to have genuinely asked her.

Ginny smiled, feeling dazed and lightheaded. She stood up, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "Good luck in Potions," she said to Zacharias, her eyes never leaving Draco's face. Draco watched her, too, his eyes telling her more than a thousand words could have.

And with that, the two of them stalked out of the library, leaving a stunned and shell-shocked Zacharias Smith to gape, open-mouthed, after them.

(&)

Ginny's feet carried her by reflex down the silent, empty hallway. She followed Draco's rhythm, slow but smooth. She still felt completely blown away, but in a sense, she also felt completed. Whole. Content.

"Ginny?" Draco asked finally. His voice was small and quiet. Ginny had never heard him talk like that, and certainly never to her.

She stopped and turned to face him. She saw the question in his eyes, the disbelief. "I meant it, if you did," she told him before he could ask.

He looked as amazed at the situation as she felt. "I meant it." He blinked, and he looked startled at his own words when he added, "Of course I meant it."

It was as if the world had turned upside-down. Never in a million years could Ginny have foreseen this moment; if anyone had told her this was going to happen, she would have laughed in their face. And if they had added that she would enjoy it, she would have refused to speak to them.

But that was before. Now, this moment felt perfect to Ginny. It was as if she had taken a sharp turn off her normal pathway of life and begun to wander down a beautiful new road. She was no longer walking alone, either; Draco had joined her.

He smiled at her, then, his eyes full of awe. She grinned, and suddenly, she felt a laugh bubbling up from her chest. It must have come straight from her heart. It escaped, and she burst out into peals of chuckling, until the whole hallway was full of her laughter.

A moment later, to the surprise of both of them, Draco joined her.

(&)


	7. In Her Maiden Bliss

**Disclaimer: **If it were mine, Draco and Ginny would have gotten together in canon long ago. Unfortunately, _Harry Potter_ belongs to JK Rowling. _In The Bleak Midwinter_ is Christina Rosetti's.

**Author Notes: **Much love to my reviewers, and I wish you all a happy holiday season. I must also beg forgiveness for taking so long. Blame it on the holidays! I promise things will get smoother from here on out. Enjoy!

(&)

"Ginny? Ginny!" Hermione's high, clear voice carried through the thick wooden dormitory door. A moment later, she knocked three times. "Are you awake?"

Ginny sat up in her bed, blinking blearily. "I am now," she grumbled, but quietly enough so that the other girl could not hear. "Come in," Ginny called, her voice louder this time.

Hermione burst through the door and practically galloped into the room. As she leapt onto Ginny's four-poster, Ginny realized that the older Gryffindor was still wearing her nightgown, a pink bathrobe, and slippers.

Ginny stared. Hermione had not even been this jumpy and excited on Christmas morning. What had induced this un-Hermione-like reaction? But Ginny knew that Hermione would reveal her secret eventually. Instead, Ginny asked, "What time is it?"

"Time to go play in the snow!" Hermione bounced over to the window and threw open the curtains, revealing that the Hogwarts landscape had been blanketed in a fresh foot of snow overnight. Large, sticky snowflakes still floated down on the cold December breeze.

_Play in the snow?!_ Hermione had really gone off her rocker. Knowing that more questions would only get senseless answers, Ginny slid out from under her warm covers and crossed the room to check the clock.

"Six thirty?!" Ginny rounded on Hermione, crossing her arms.

Hermione could tell that the youngest Weasley wanted an explanation. She grinned sheepishly, sitting back down on the edge of Ginny's bed. "You know that New Year's Masque?"

_Do I ever,_ Ginny thought, and she smiled to herself. But aloud, she replied, "Sure."

"Well…" Hermione was wringing her hands in her lap. "I've been asked."

It took all of Ginny's self-restraint not to shout, "Me too, me too!" Her smile widened as she raced over to Hermione's side, thumping back on the bed. "Who was it?" Ginny asked eagerly, her tiredness gone.

Hermione looked up at her with wide eyes, biting her lower lip shyly. She mumbled something, her cheeks red.

"Say what?" Ginny asked, unable to hear Hermione's unintelligible murmuring.

"Ron did."

Ginny mouth dropped open. She blinked. Then she let out a giant whoop of glee and starting dancing about the room.

"Ginny!" Hermione said, laughing. "Ginny, calm down!"

But Ginny ignored her. Finally, breathless, she collapsed on the bed. "I can't believe it," she gasped. "I can't believe he actually did it."

Hermione was beaming, her face very red now. "Well, he didn't _really_ do it. Harry did. But Ron was standing right there, blushing as red as rose petals, and when I said yes, I looked right at him. Then he made this choking noise, and tried to say something…" Hermione laughed. "It's rather funny now, actually. Harry was trying not to laugh then, I could tell."

Ginny hugged a pillow. "And? Did you do anything?"

"Do… anything? You mean, like…?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Come on, Hermione, you're sixteen. You can say the word 'kiss.'"

"No, of course we didn't _kiss_."

"Did he hug you?"

"No… but we sat together on the couch, and once…"

Ginny leaned toward her. "Yes?"

Hermione buried her face in a pillow. Ginny barely heard her mumble, "He put my hair behind my ear."

"Ahhh!" Ginny cried. It would be endlessly fun to tease her brother and Hermione now… in fact, she could hardly wait to begin. "Is he downstairs?"

Hermione peaked over the pillow and shrugged. "I don't know, I came straight here to tell you when I woke up."

Ginny smiled mischievously. "Let's go check." She was beginning to put on her cloak – her current substitute for a worn-out bathrobe – when Hermione stopped her.

"Wait, Ginny, I have to ask you something. Do you think – do you think Harry's angry?"

Ginny froze and turned back to face the girl. "Harry? _Angry?_" She gave the worried-looking Hermione a comforting smile. "He's probably just as relieved as I am."

Hermione looked confused. "Relieved?"

Ginny patted Hermione's shoulder. "You see, Hermione… everyone knows that you like Ron and that Ron likes you. It's you two who've taken the longest time to find out. Now that you have admitted it, everyone will be able to relax." Ginny grinned wryly. "We won't have to put up with your cluelessness anymore."

Hermione smiled back, obviously soothed. "Good. If I thought for one second that it'd ruin our friendship…" her voice trailed off. She shook her head. "Nevermind. Thanks, Ginny. I really appreciate it."

Ginny finished clasping her cloak and stepped into some slippers. "No problem, Hermione." The redhead was halfway out the door when Hermione called her back. She swung around. "Yeah?"

"If _you_ ever need someone to talk to," Hermione reminded her, "you're more than welcome to come find me. I'll listen, I promise. And… I won't tell Ron."

Ginny stared at her, trying to keep an innocent face. Inside, she felt rather guilty. After all, just the night before, she'd agreed to go with none other than _Draco Malfoy_ to the New Year's Masque. Though neither of them were sure what this meant – were they a "couple?" Did they… _like_ each other? Or could they even _love_ each other? The concept was a foreign one; neither had known what to think or feel about the situation. Draco had simply walked Ginny back to Gryffindor tower, and before he'd left her for the evening, they'd agreed not to tell anyone.

"But what about Smith? He'll surely tell _someone,_" Ginny had asked.

Draco had merely shrugged. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. Fortunately, there aren't many students left in his house for him to tell."

Then Ginny had smiled; Draco's fleeting smile had shone back at her, and the evening was over.

What an unusual, exciting, contrary, _magical_ evening it had been.

"Sure, Hermione," Ginny said finally, trying to sound light. "Thanks."

And she hurried from the dormitory, anxious to avoid more awkward silence.

(&)

When Ginny arrived in the common room to tease Ron, she realized that she'd been beaten to it. Harry was laughing, and Ron was about as red as the flickering fire in front of them. She stalked over, grinning, and sat down beside her brother on the couch.

"Well… I have it on good authority that you've finally made the move, Ron," she said.

He scowled at her. "Shove off, Gin."

She mock-glared right back. "Ron," she said loudly, "how come you're allowed to shout at me when I get a boyfriend, but I can't even take the mickey?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione said calmly, her voice even though her cheeks were slightly red. "He's only asked me to the Masque."

Ron was staring at her. "Well… if I… what if I… do I have to…" he stuttered incoherently, speaking to a spot on the carpet.

"I think he's trying to ask you," Ginny translated slyly, "if you want to be his girlfriend, too?"

Hermione turned pink, bit her lip shyly, and murmured, "Yeah."

Both Harry and Ginny burst into fits of laughter. Ron stared at Hermione, shocked. She smiled nervously at him from her chair. Then, suddenly, Ron stood up from the couch and crossed to her side, his brow etched with determination. In one surprisingly smooth movement, he bent and kissed her on the lips.

Harry and Ginny stopped laughing, their eyes wide, but no one was as surprised as Hermione. When Ron finally broke away, bright red but looking a bit pleased with himself, she gave a gasp of surprise and stared at him breathlessly, her mouth slightly open.

"Ron," said Harry finally, breaking the long silence and causing Hermione to jump, "I think that's the bravest thing you've ever done, and that includes McGonagall's chess set."

(&)

Ginny could hardly wait for breakfast to arrive. Even the thought of looking across a huge hall at Draco made her feel jumpy. Fortunately, Ron and Hermione were too wrapped up in the morning's events to notice anything out of the ordinary, and Harry was busy taking the mickey. None of them protested when she entered the Great Hall and took a seat by herself toward the end of the Gryffindor table, trying to look around without anyone noticing where she was staring.

She spotted him right away, of course. His silver-white head was bent over his plate; she could just see the hair on the nape of his neck. Her fingers tingled, wanting to run themselves through it…

Ginny caught herself staring and looked sharply down at her plate. _Can you be any more obvious? What if he notices? What if realizes that you… you…_

Ginny put a stop to her thought before it could finish itself. She did _not_ want to utter that word – aloud or in her mind – when dealing with Draco Malfoy. She was determined to pretend that she didn't feel it, that it didn't exist in her heart, least of all for _him. _What if it wasn't the same for Draco? What if he didn't…

"Merlin!" she growled, stabbing a kipper viciously to relieve her anger. "Can't I just _stop_ _thinking about it?!_"

(&)

Ginny would never have admitted it, least of all to herself, but secretly she would give anything to know that Draco was thinking about the exact same thing at that moment. In fact, he was staring at her in the exact same way that she had been looking at him a moment before. His granite eyes soaked in her appearance: a halo of hair as red as Cabernet Sauvignon; big, soft brown eyes hidden under long lashes; a long, curved neck framed by downward sloping shoulders…

"_For the love of Salazar_," Blaise Zabini drawled next to him, "stop ogling."

Draco turned his gaze to his fellow Slytherin, although the look in his eyes was very different than that with which he'd been regarding Ginny. "Do you blame me for looking at her? You would if you were in my shoes."

"I don't plan to be in _anyone's_ shoes when I look at Ginny Weasley. In fact," Blaise said with a self-satisfied smirk, "I don't plan to be wearing anything at all."

Only Draco's eyes revealed the inward struggle that was taking place; fortunately for Blaise, his mind won, and he managed _not_ to punch the other boy in the stomach. "Ginny's a lucky girl, then –" Blaise's smirk widened at Draco's words "– because Slytherins' plans always _fail._"

The sly smile fell off Blaise's lips. "You're a Slytherin, too," he growled, "so be prepared to give up your plans with her."

Draco stood up smoothly, knowing that Blaise's anger meant he was admitting defeat. "You see," he explained regally, "I'm the exception." Then he stalked away, leaving Blaise fuming.

(&)

Ginny watched him sweep from the room, her eyes following him as sharply as a cat's follow a mouse. Luckily, no one was watching her, or they would have seen the burning desire to pounce on him as well.

She finally turned back to her food when the doors shut behind him, but she realized she wasn't really hungry. She was too hung up on thoughts of Draco; what did he _mean_?

She glanced down the table at Ron and Hermione, half expecting to see them feeding each other. Instead, they were merely sitting next to each other, Hermione chatting vividly to Harry and Ron chewing heartily beside her. As Ginny watched, Hermione's hand met Ron's when they reached for the same pitcher, and the two of them shared a smile.

Ginny sighed. They were in love. It was the kind of love you always imagined for yourself; the kind of love you talked about in hushed whispers at night in the dormitory; the kind of love you had dreams about when you were fourteen. She could see that love in Hermione's smile, in Ron's gentle eyes.

Ginny realized something then, looking at them. It came quite suddenly, but she knew in an instant that it was true, and that knowledge was both beautiful and terrifying.

She knew that that same love lit her gaze whenever she saw at Draco.

(&)

**Author Notes: **I know, I promised less fluff, and there was a lot with the R/Hr. And I must apologize for the second time this chapter (I'm so bad) for including so much of that pairing in what you can see is a D/G fic. But I needed a transition… I needed something to help Ginny realize that what she felt for Draco was more than just "like." So, sorry… and I hope the ends justify the means for most of you! 


	8. A Kiss

**Disclaimer: **In my own little world, chocolate is good for you and Harry Potter is mine. However, in reality, JKR own HP and Christina Rosetti owns _In the Bleak Midwinter._

**Author Notes:** I know this took awhile, but in the end, it shall be worth it. Speaking of the end, it draws near! The question is... to epilogue or not to epilogue? Plus, I'll write a "deleted scene" for whomever spots the Phantom of the Opera reference!

A feeling of restlessness led Ginny to rise early that morning and head down to the library. She had an excess of energy that was crying to get used up, and she figured that she might as well spend it finishing her Transfiguration homework. She thought she'd have finished it on Wednesday night with Smith, but that study session didn't last very long...

_Fortunately for you,_ a voice murmured in her thoughts. Ginny smiled to herself as she sat down at a table near a window and started her essay. If Draco hadn't come and interrupted the studying, she wouldn't be going to the Masque with him, and if she weren't going to the Masque with him, she might never have discovered that she... that she...

Her mind stalled, and her smile disappeared. This was a subject that caused both excitement and fear for Ginny. Yes, it was a beautiful thing. But what if Draco didn't return the feeling? What if he still despised her, as he used to? Ginny didn't think that his hatred ran that deep, but she didn't want his hatred running _at all. _No, she wanted Draco to experience quite a different feeling when he saw her.

_Love._

There. She'd finally thought it. Ginny sighed and buried her face wearily in her hands. What was she going to do? She was inevitably and irreversibly in deep, desperate, passionate love. It had happened so fast that even _she_ had fooled herself into ignoring it... but happened it had, and there was no going back. She had reached the point of no return.

Ginny forced herself to go back to her essay and think happier thoughts. Well, at least, think less dangerous thoughts; her mind turned to incantations and wand movements and slowly, her dilemma was forced to the back of her brain.

That is, until she finished her essay and looked up.

(&)

Draco watched her, his face carefully schooled into blankness. His granite eyes, however, revealed the painful, poignant emotion that was currently piercing his heart. That intoxicating, addicting emotion that poets know so well: _love._

_Sweet Merlin, _he thought to himself. _Just being here is dangerous, because every time I see her, I take one more step further. _Soon, there would be no going back.

Actually, he given up the notion of "going back" long ago. There was just no way in _hell_ that Draco Malfoy was _ever _going to be free of Ginny Weasley. She had him; she'd had him since the moment he'd laid a gentle hand on her hair in the darkness of the Astronomy Tower.

He was just taking a while to admit it.

Suddenly, she looked up. He blinked, but continued to stare at her. It was hard _not _too: the just-risen sun was illuminating her messy bun into a fiery halo, the top clasp of her robes had come undone and they were slipping off her narrow shoulders, and she had just been chewing daintily on the end of her quill.

Ginny Weasley should not be allowed to look that good.

Draco swallowed; it came out more like a gulp. He winced inwardly and hoped Ginny hadn't heard him.

Apparently, she hadn't, for surprise was registering across her lightly-freckled features and she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Staring at you," Draco said calmly, his casual voice belying his inward struggle to gain control of his... heart.

Ginny blinked. "I hadn't noticed,"she deadpanned, showing herself to be a perfect match for his coolness. "Why?"

_Don't say it... don't say it... don't say it... _"Because you're beautiful."

_Shit._

But Ginny hadn't seemed entirely grossed-out at his sudden show of affect. Rather, her mouth had fallen slightly open and there was an odd look in her eyes. Her first attempt to speak came out a bit croaky. On her second try, she managed, "Thanks."

Draco realized what might have caused this reaction. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that before?" he asked her.

"N-no, actually."

"Then every other boy you've spoken to is a blind, mindless prat." Draco couldn't believe he was saying this - him, snarkiest of Slytherins - but he also knew that he meant every word. She was... heavenly.

A bit of pink rose to Ginny's cheeks. "Thanks," she murmured, her eyes wide as she stared into his slate-gray ones.

The silence stretched out, each of them gazing at the other.

_Please say something, _ Draco thought helplessly at her. _Oh gods, _s_ay something and stop me before I drown myself in you..._

"Why are you here?" Ginny asked suddenly, looking down at the table. A secret smile was playing around her lips.

Draco nearly sighed with relief. He had been a few seconds away from losing his mind, from losing himself to those glowing almond eyes. "I was wondering," he asked her once he was sure he could trust his voice, "if you'd come with me to Hogsmeade?"

Ginny stared at him. "What? When?"

"Today."

She blinked. "But -"

He cut her off. "We're on vacation, remember? We can walk down to the village whenever we want to. And I just thought... you'd want to get costumes for the Masque."

Ginny had been so lost in thoughts about Draco that costumes hadn't crossed her mind once. "Oh!" she said. "I'd completely forgotten..."

He looked at her hopefully. Wait - hopefully?! Ginny stared at him and realized that, yes, even though his face was completely blank, his eyes were obviously pleading. _He wants me to go with him?_ She thought wildly. _Could that mean...?_

She was sick of analyzing every last moment. She was in love with Draco; she might as well use every moment with him to her advantage. At least when the holidays were over and he went back to ignoring her, she'd have those moments to look back on and cherish. "Of course I'll come," she said. "Let me just take my books back to -"

"Leave them here," Draco interrupted. He seemed quite pleased. "No one will take them."

Ginny shrugged. She didn't want to risk coming across Harry, Ron, or Hermione in the common room anyway. "All right."

Then, to her immense surprise - and, by the looks of it, is - Draco took Ginny's hand in his own. They both froze and stared at each other.

Draco opened his mouth as if to explain. "I..."

"Come on," Ginny said, secretly relishing in the feel of his fingers entwined with hers. They seemed to fit over each other like a glove. She whirled, pulling him down the steps after her as they raced from the library and onto the grounds.

(&)

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was cold, but the sun was out nonetheless and the day was beautiful. In a way, it reminded her of Draco: when you first stepped out, the air felt frozen and unmerciful, but when you took a look around you and lifted your face to the sky, the sun warmed your blood and the day became suddenly beautiful.

She shot a glance at him sideways. He was watching his feet as they walked, swinging their loosely-clasped hands to the rhythm of his footsteps. A piece of hair had fallen into his eyes and he tried to blow it away as she watched; she grinned at the sight.

He noticed her staring and saw the smile. "What?"

She shrugged and quickly turned away. "Nothing." But she was still grinning wryly.

It was Draco's turn to stare. Her lashes were lowered over her eyes, given her a dozy look, as if she'd just climbed out of bed. A few curls had escaped her hurried bun, and they fell down her neck and onto her milky shoulders. Her robes were still slipping off to reveal a thin, pale pink bra strap, and beneath that, milky white skin outlined by shadowed bones.

If Draco was the blushing sort, he would have blushed then. He felt a sudden desire to run his fingers along those shoulders, to warm that skin with his own...

He stopped. Ginny stopped a moment later and turned to face him. "Draco?"

"Um..." He looked up at her; she was staring at him, confused. "Here's the shop," he said, mortified at the husky tone of his voice.

"Right," she said, still giving him a funny look as she led him inside.

The shopkeeper was a squat, rather plump witch with a wide smile and permed hair. She greeted them enthusiastically as a little bell informed her of their entrance to the store.

"Good morning, my dears!" she squealed, descending upon a horrified Draco and a startled Ginny. "Come from Hogwarts, have you?"

"Er... yes," Ginny began. "We've come to get costumes for -"

"- the Masque tomorrow evening, am I right?" the witch finished. She beamed at them. "What a lovely couple you two make! We've got a few sets of matching costumes right in the back, here, won't you come look?"

She clamped Draco's free arm in a vicelike grip and dragged him to the back of the store. Ginny followed, still holding his hand.

"Have anything in mind, did you?" the witch asked, her much-too-cheery-for-this-hour-of-the-morning smile still plastered on her face.

"No-o-o..." Draco said slowly, looking at Ginny, who shrugged.

If possible, the witch's smile widened. "Good! I can help you pick something -"

"... but we can look through the racks," Draco added hastily, clearly trying to get the witch away.

Ginny quickly turned a giggle into a cough. Draco glared at her.

The witch seemed crestfallen, if one could look crestfallen while grinning too widely. "Oh. Well. If you need anything, to give me a call."

She then waved to them and hopped back to the front of the store.

Draco let out a sigh of relief.

Ginny "coughed" again.

"She was scary, all right?" Draco spat in defense of himself. "I don't like... unnaturally happy people."

"Right," Ginny said. She was obviously struggling to stop herself from smiling.

Draco continued to glare at her as she picked her way through the racks.

"You could help," she told him after a few minutes, still smiling in that mysterious way of hers.

He walked over to the rack and pulled out a random costume. "How's this?"

Ginny blinked and burst out laughing. "I think it complements you perfectly," she managed between giggles.

Draco looked down at what he had grabbed, only to discover that he was holding a large, furry, _pink_ bunny suit. "Urgh," he said, throwing back onto the rack as if it had burned him.

They continued to search silently, Draco sending the bunny suit filthy looks at regular intervals. After a few minutes of futile looking, Ginny let out a cry of victory.

Draco looked over at her.

She was holding a magnificent dress robe that looked to be made of silk. It had an uneven, wispy hem at about knee-height of several different colors: gold, red, orange, yellow, and a couple of light purplish-blue. Draco realized a moment later that they were flames. A quick survey of the rest of the dress revealed its identity. "Is it fire?" he asked her.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she watched him for his reaction.

She seemed to like it. "It's good," Draco said.

"Look, there's a matching one for you," said Ginny, diving back toward the rack and digging around before pulling out a set of male dress robes. They were white, with silver trim, but obviously masculine.

"Ice," Draco commented, walking towards her and taking them.

"Let's try them on," Ginny said, sounding excited.

The ice robes didn't seem half bad. "All right," Draco said, since Ginny obviously liked them.

She dove toward the dressing booth and pulled the curtain shut. Draco went into the cubicle next to hers, carefully shrugging out of his black robes and donning the white ones. He glanced in the mirror. He looked rather pale, but the silver on the trim complemented his hair.

He was about to step outside when the top half of Ginny's black school robe flew over the division between their booths. She had thrown it up there to let it hang.

Draco tried to stop them, but several of his more stubborn thoughts seeped through into his brain. Not only was he a seventeen-year-old boy changing right next to an attractive girl, but he was _in love_ with that girl. The thought of her wearing only her undergarments not a meter away was not easily put off.

Draco shoved his way roughly out of the booth and over to the wall farthest from Ginny's booth. He leaned against it to wait for her, telling himself to say the alphabet.

He'd gotten to 'L' (after losing concentration and repeating 'H' twice) when Ginny pushed the curtain aside and stepped shyly out.

Draco stood up straight, gaping at her.

Her long, thin legs teased him from under the curve-hugging dress; she turned in a circle and the "flames" flew up, revealing white thighs. The top of the dress, which consisted of spaghetti-thin straps, a scoop neck, and an empire waist, fit her... _assets_... perfectly. Her long, thin arms were completely bare, and he could just see the freckles dappling them...

He closed the gap between them in an instant. She was staring up at him with wide eyes; an innocent blush stained her cheekbones. Draco's breath was stolen away at her grace as she stepped into him, her bare arms moving as if they longer to encompass him. For once, Draco felt absolutely no control over his face; he knew that his look of complete awe and adoration showed in more than just his eyes. Tenderly, gently, he raised a hand to Ginny's face; she closed her eyes. He pulled the comb from her hair and it fell cascading about her shoulders; it was like waves of molten lava spilling forth across her shoulders and down her back.

The comb fell from his hand as he bent closer to her. One arm snaked around her waist and the other cupped her cheek lightly as he leaned down and caressed her lips with his own.

Kissing Ginny was like swallowing an explosion. Draco immediately felt his ears pounding and his body streaming with desire. She gasped and snaked her tiny little arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he lost all memory of how to control himself. His tongue found no resistance in her full lips as it slipped its way into her mouth and explored every curve. She surprised him by gently doing the same.

The taste of her was completely addicting; Draco felt his mind screaming as her fingers wound into his hair and pulled him to the wall. One of her legs was suddenly straddling him; he realized faintly that he'd lifted her off the ground and was balancing her on his waist. He could smell her hair where it had fallen around his face; it reminded him of cinnamon and caramel. His hand moved to her thigh and began caressing its smooth skin; her dress had ridden up nearly to her waist. She gasped again at his touch, and he used the moment of surprise to penetrate the deeper corners of her mouth. She was arching her back into him, and he could feel the carefully lined-up bones of her ribs and, above that, her soft chest...

The bell at the front door of the shop tinkled again, but neither Ginny nor Draco paid any attention to it. They had completely shut out all external distraction; their minds were centered completely on the exploration of each other with every sense available...

That is, until a soft but startling scream echoed throughout the store.

Ginny's eyes blinked blearily open and Draco found himself reluctantly lifting his lips off hers. They both turned, Ginny still straddling Draco where he balanced her against the wall.

Ginny gasped.

Standing in the doorway, her eyes as wide as saucers and her mouth even wider, was Hermione Granger.

Hermione gave a choked sound of horror, spun on her heel, and sprinted from the store.

(&)


	9. L'amour

**Disclaimer: **You've probably figured out by now that _Harry Potter_ is JK Rowling's and _In the Bleak Midwinter_ is a poem by Christina Rossetti.

**Author Notes: **I'm glad last chapter was such a hit! Kudos to **me** and **atomic midnight **for spotting the Phantom reference ("She had reached the point of no return."). Yay Phatom! :) My apologies for the time it took to produce this chapter... guh. I suppose you could blame finals week and tonsilitis. :( Anywhoo, we're reaching the climax, so look for an exciting chapter 10!

(&)

A moment of shocked silence passed between Draco and Ginny. Draco blinked and turned to the young Weasley; she had gone very pale.

"Ginny?" he asked finally.

She sprang to life in half a second. Before Draco could react, she was out the door, sprinting barefoot after Hermione, still wearing the dress robes.

Draco began to run after her as soon as he realized what had happened, but he was caught mid-sprint by the plump witch who ran the store.

"You haven't paid for those robes!" she shrieked. "I could contact the authorities, you know!"

Draco froze, glancing from the witch to the door and back again. Finally, he sighed and angrily said, "Very well. How much?"

"Fifty Galleons," the witch said rather haughtily, or so Draco thought.

"Fifty -!" he choked in surprise. But he wanted most to follow Ginny as quickly as possible, so he handed the coins over.

The witch took her precious time adding the Galleons to a jar on the counter and giving him a small slip of parchment which served as his receipt. Draco glared at her angrily, hating her more and more with each passing minute.

Finally, she smiled (it looked very fake to Draco) and said in a sugary voice, "Have a nice day, dear, won't you?"

"Actually, I'm guessing not," Draco threw back as he made to leave the shop.

"But what about your school robes, dear? Don't forget them, now," the witch said, pointing to the changing booths.

Draco made a noise halfway between a growl and a groan, heading towards the back and gathering the black Hogwarts robes into his arms.

(&)

"Hermione! Hermione, please, listen to me..."

Hermione kept staring straight ahead as she walked swiftly back down the main Hogsmeade road. "This is too much, Ginny. Don't."

"You have to hear me out!" Ginny cried, and she was ashamed of the whining tone in her own voice. "Please," she added desperately.

Hermione stopped, but still did not turn to face her younger friend. "How long?" she asked, her voice shaking with suppressed rage.

Ginny's lip quivered. "Since... before Christmas."

"You've been doing... _that_ with him this entire time?"

"No!" Ginny's voice hitched. "No, Hermione, it isn't like that!"

"How could you, Ginny? I don't understand... how could you?"

"Don't give me that self-righteous bollocks," Ginny snapped. "You have no right to judge me, Hermione."

Hermione laughed hollowly and looked skyward, her eyes dark. "No right? _No right?_ Ginny, I just saw you sticking your bloody tongue down Draco Malfoy's throat. _I think that is reason enough for me to be angry!_"

"You don't know him, Hermione! You've never treated him like a human being... you're as much at fault as he is!"

"Me?! What about all the times he's insulted me, dragged my name in the dirt? What about your brother, Ginny? What about _you? _How can you kiss that ugly brute, knowing what he's said about your family?"

"We were no better, Hermione! You know bloody well that we said the same things about him."

"We had reason! He's _evil, _Ginny, his whole family is _evil!_"

Suddenly, Ginny reached out and grabbed Hermione's shoulders, turning the brunette so that their eyes met. "I can't explain it, Hermione. I can't expect anyone to understand... not you, not my brother, not Harry. You just have to accept it. You have to..." her voice broke and Hermione was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "... you have to trust me."

"It's him I don't trust," Hermione said, her voice hushed. "It's _him._ Why him, Ginny?"

(&)

Draco grumbled to himself all the way down the street, attracting several stares and even a few shouts as he lugged his own robes and Ginny's through Hogsmeade.

He stopped, however, when he rounded a corner and spotted Ginny and Hermione a few feet away. They were both looking very angry, and they were so caught up in their own discussion that neither of them noticed Draco. He retreated out of sight, but made sure that he was within hearing range.

"Why him, Ginny?" he heard Hermione ask.

Ginny's voice rose over the silence, sounding quiet but determined. "Hermione, you won't believe me, but I swear I'm telling every bit of truth. He does things to me that I never thought possible. Not "does things" in the sense that _you're_ thinking of... I mean, he does things to my soul. I think the - the love I feel for him is ten times stronger because it was born of hatred. He's still an enigma to me - I don't even know his middle name -" she laughed to herself, and Draco's heart skipped a beat. "I can understand that from your point of view, it's insane. Stupid, even. Impossible, certainly. But - but you don't have to know everything about Draco to trust him or believe in him. You only have to discover his inner goodness, the treasure that he keeps hidden from the world. I don't know how I did it, but... but I guess I unlocked that treasure chest. Never in my life, Hermione, have I known something so completely and whole-heartedly than I know that I... that I... that _I love Draco._"

Draco's blood was roaring in his ears. Was this really happening? He resisted the urge to pinch himself. Surely he was losing his mind... surely this was some alternate universe. What had happened to his _badness? _What had happened to the Draco Malfoy who despised the Weasleys, right down to their shoelaces?

He was gone, gone like the snow in springtime, gone like the roses in winter. Gone. It was unfathomable, but somehow, it was... truth.

He stepped towards the two girls - young women, really - dropping the robes as he did so. Both turned to face him. Ginny had tears in her eyes, as did Hermione, but the older Gryffindor glared at the sight of him. He steeled his resolve at the sight of those narrowed eyes; his determination mounted.

"Love should never have to be proven... _Granger_... but I suppose my actions of the past have given you reason to want the facts. Let me tell you," he said, his voice even, "that if you had asked me a month ago if I'd ever love a Weasley, I'd have laughed in your face. That's the honest truth. Now, however, I'd tell you that I already do." He switched his gaze to Ginny, whose eyes were wide and amazed. "Ginny Weasley, I'm never one to flaunt my emotions, least of all love. So know that, just this once, I'm breaking a law of Malfoyism." His voice turned croaky, but he forced himself onward. If this is what Granger needed, so be it. Besides... his heart leapt... hadn't Ginny just said it? Hadn't she just confirmed his very dreams? "_I love you_."

He noticed with a bit of satisfaction that Granger's mouth was slightly open. The more shocked of the two, however, was definitely Ginny. She gaped at him.

She tried to form words, but they came out like little squeaks. Draco stepped closer to her, carefully placing a long finger over her mouth, silencing her. Then, perfectly aware of Granger's presence and relishing in it, he kissed Ginny gently on the mouth.

Ginny melted into him. It was not as passionate as their last kiss; it contained all the relief and the joy and the wonder of newly established love. It was a promise of the future and a reflection of the past.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. Ginny pulled away from Draco, her lips full, and he smiled down at her smugly. He then looked over at Hermione, smirking. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?" he asked, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Hermione squared her shoulders and looked him sternly in the eye. "I don't know how you're going to survive when Ron finds out," she said. "He won't believe a word of that love bollocks." She studied Draco's eyes closely. "For some reason, however... I do. But one wrong step, Malfoy - _one wrong step -_ and I swear on my mother, that slap back in third year will seem _merciful._"

Ginny ran over to Hermione and threw her arms around the older girl. "Thank you, Hermione - oh, thank you..."

Hermione looked rather taken aback. "I'm going to trust you with this, okay? I'm not going to tell Ron or Harry... yet. But if you don't, I will."

Ginny stepped back. "They're going to find out tomorrow night. Draco's taking me to the masque."

Hermione blinked. "You're not going to give them any forewarning?"

Ginny bit her lip, shooting Draco a worried glance. He shrugged. "If I do, they won't let me go," she said finally, staring at her feet. "I just know it."

Hermione sighed. "Fine, fine. I can't make you talk to them. But I can tell you this: they're not going to take this news well. _Not at all._" She turned to Draco. "I hope you know some good healing spells."

He smiled. "Wouldn't you rather I _didn't_ know them?"

Hermione looked him up and down warily. "At least you don't expect me to get used to this overnight." She looked at Ginny. "But I might understand him by your twentieth wedding anniversary."

(&)


	10. Love Brought to Fruition

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns Harry Potter and Christina Rossetti owns In the Bleak Midwinter. If I weren't so scared of them, I might try to profit off this. (Just kidding! Don't hurt me, big scary lawyers! wibble)

**Author Notes: **Well, reviewers, I don't begrudge you your "Finally!"s. I am horribly sorry. Life got in my way and all that rubbish. Do forgive me, I beg of thee.

This is it. The big one. I hope I have pulled it off to your liking.

P.S. Pardon the... er... _French_ in this chapter. Harry and Ron are quite pissed, you see.

(&)

Ginny was blushing slightly at Hermione's last words as the older Gryffindor girl made her way back to the robe store. "Twentieth wedding anniversary" was always daunting for a young couple to hear, much less before they'd even gone on a real date.

Draco, however, had a strange, almost pleased look on his face.

"You look like the cat who got the cream," Ginny told him slyly, stepping toward him and wrapping her arms around his neck. His own limbs encircled her smoothly.

"I _did_ get the cream," he said wryly, kissing her shortly. He felt her lips curve upward in a smile beneath his own.

(&)

"Will I see you again before tomorrow?" Ginny asked at the front gates of Hogwarts.

"Probably not," Draco replied, giving her a disappointed look. "We can't risk getting found out when the Masque is tomorrow night."

"Right," Ginny said, nodding sadly. "All right. Where shall I meet you tomorrow evening, then?"

Draco was silent as he thought. "In the Astronomy Tower," he said finally. "Before you go down to the Masque."

Ginny smiled. "Like that first night."

He studied her closely, his eyes soft as they rarely were. "Like that first night," he repeated, so softly that Ginny had to strain to hear his voice. She knew he was remembering the bitter emptiness that had lead them to the tower, and then the feeling of quenched thirst that had filled them both when they left after an evening together.

Then she kissed him quickly on his cheek and took her dress robes from him. "Until then," she murmured, before starting up the hill and slipping into the castle.

Draco watched her go, following her trek to the front doors with a cool gaze from beneath his fringe of goose-down hair. He leaned calmly against the gate-post, and he waited a few moments after Ginny's red mane had disappeared through the doorway before heading inside himself, so that no one watching would know they had been together.

(&)

Ginny woke early the next morning, unable to suppress her jittery nerves. The thought of the Masque loomed in her head as she showered and dressed into jeans and a sweater. Finally, she knew she had to work off her pent-up energy; she decided to walk down to the kitchens for a bit of breakfast. That way, she could also avoid Ron and Harry.

The halls were nearly empty, as most of the other students were down in the Great Hall. Ginny hummed to herself as she tickled the pear on the familiar portrait and climbed into the kitchen, which was full of bustling house elves.

"Miss Harry Potter's Friend!" a squeaky voice called from across the kitchen.

Ginny jumped and looked for its source. It did not take long to pick out Dobby among the sea of other elves, as he was wearing a bright orange-and-green plaid shirt, tan trousers that had been unevenly cropped to fit him, mismatched socks, and three of Hermione's hats from two years previous.

It was all Ginny could do to keep from laughing.

"Miss Harry Potter's Friend," Dobby squeaked again, having trudged his way through the crowd of elves currently serving breakfast. "Can Dobby get you something to eat?"

Ginny smiled. "Sure, Dobby. Just some tea would do -"

"And don't forget the scones," a smooth voice added from behind Ginny.

She jumped and whirled around, only to discover Blaise. "You have a nasty habit of sneaking up on people," she informed him coldly.

"Did we wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, dearest?" he asked, sitting down at the little square table by the fireplace.

"_We_ haven't woken up anywhere together, thank you," she replied, although she found herself sitting down across from him as Dobby scurried about fixing the tea.

Blaise sighed dramatically, his hands clutching his heart. Ginny rolled her eyes as he theatrically said, "Alas, 'tis true, fair dame - my love remains unrequited."

"And will remain that way, forever," Ginny added.

"Ooh," he said, hunching over as if hurt. "Your words wound me."

Ginny sighed. She opened her mouth to retort, but Dobby reappeared at that moment. Ginny realized how amazingly strong the little house elf must be, for he was carrying a tray several times larger than himself with relative ease. He set it on the table and bowed with a flourish. "Dobby has brought the tea," he said.

Ginny smiled at him. "Thank you very much, Dobby, it looks delicious."

Dobby beamed with pride and bustled off to another part of the kitchen.

Ginny glanced back at the tray. Not only was the smell of warm, honey-steeped tea wafting into the air, but freshly-baked scones steamed in a large pile on the tray.

"I think we've deprived everyone upstairs of scones this morning," Ginny commented to Blaise as she poured them both a cup of tea.

He sat up straight again, his theatrics over. "I've been meaning to tell Draco," he said suddenly, taking his tea from Ginny with a nod, "that I'll be his second tonight."

"His... second?" Ginny asked, confused and surprised at Blaise's transformation from drama king to sober student.

"At the duel," Blaise explained to her, buttering a scone. "You know, between him and Harry."

Ginny nearly dropped her tea. "_WHAT!_"

Blaise's eyes widened as he looked at her. "Calm down!" he hissed. "You mean you didn't know?"

Ginny's voice was shaking, full of anger, surprise, and fear. "No. Apparently I'm not _allowed_ to know about things like that." She set down her tea violently, spilling amber liquid over the edge of her cup. "I can't _believe_ Draco planned a _duel!_" she spat. "And with Harry! It will be chaos, a disaster, complete ruination..."

"Oh dear," Blaise said. "I thought Draco had told you." Blaise took a large gulp of tea. "He's going to throttle me for this."

"He's the one who should be throttled," Ginny muttered, and she sounded as if she were planning to do just that. "Bloody idiot... a _duel, _for Merlin's sake..." She rounded on Blaise. "And you planned this with him?"

"Well... I mean, of course not! No... no, of course I -"

Ginny stood up, her chair scraping loudly on the kitchen floor. All the surrounding house elves were watching with wide, worried eyes. "Boys are such _prats,_" she said to Blaise. Then she turned and stormed from the kitchen.

(&)

Ginny marched straight down to the Great Hall, glaring daggers at any student in her path. It was not hard to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione where they sat at the Gryffindor table, chatting animatedly with the Hufflepuff girl.

The part of Ginny's mind that was _not_ incoherently angry registered with some relief that Zacharias Smith was not at breakfast this morning, therefore, he hadn't been telling Harry and Ron about Draco.

Ginny continued to storm over to them. All three of them looked up, shocked, as she approached. "Harry," she said, so forcefully that he jumped.

"Yes, Ginny?" he asked, his eyes concerned and worried. "What's wrong?"

"Are you bringing your wand tonight?" she demanded.

He blinked. "What!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ginny, but the youngest Weasley ignored her, instead growling at Harry, "I asked you if you were bringing your wand to the Masque this evening."

"I - I suppose so, yeah. Why?"

Ginny squared her shoulders. "Thanks. Good. Don't forget it." Then, without answering his question, she whirled around and marched from the hall, resolutely ignoring the Slytherin table, from which she was sure Draco was staring.

"Ginny!" Ron called after her, but she had already slammed the doors of the hall.

(&)

Ginny passed the rest of the day fuming and hiding from everyone. As the Masque began to approach, she ignored the time, sitting in her silent dormitory and worrying, both for Draco and for Harry. What if they hurt each other? She'd feel horrible. Her mother would be irate. And what if something worse happened? Harry was a powerful wizard, and when he was angry, things were _not_ pretty. What if he - what if he - ?

Suddenly, a soft knock at the door interrupted Ginny's thoughts - fortunately, because they had been heading down a path she did not wish to follow. She stood up and crossed the room, but before opening her door, she asked, "Who is it?"

"Hermione. Please let me in, Ginny."

Ginny felt almost relieved. Hermione would help. Hermione would know. She opened the door.

Hermione stood holding her dress robes, her wand, and various bottles. She seemed to procrastinate a moment, but stepped over the threshold. Ginny shut the door quickly and locked it.

"Hello," Hermione said, and she sounded somewhat concerned. "Are you doing all right?"

Ginny sighed. "I would say 'fine,' but that would be a lie," she told Hermione after a moment's silence.

Hermione set her things down on Ginny's bed and quickly took the Weasley into a warm embrace. "Oh, Ginny," she murmured, "I can imagine how hard this must be."

Ginny bit her bottom lip to stop from crying. "Draco's going to duel with Harry tonight."

Hermione stiffened and stepped backward. "What?"

"Blaise told me. That's why I was asking Harry about his wand this morning." Ginny all but fell onto the bed, looking morose. "I don't know what to do."

Hermione sat down next to her. She was very quiet. Then, barely audible, she said, "You have to stop Draco from doing it."

Ginny looked at her sharply. "Do you think he'll listen? He still hates Harry, no matter how much he loves me. He always will. I can't change that."

Hermione sighed and placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Yes, you can. You have to."

Ginny stared. "Do you realize what you're asking me to do, Hermione? Draco has hated Harry for seven years. _Seven years. _That could never change in one night."

"This is your moment to be strong, Ginny," said Hermione. Her voice was firm, harsh, and completely truthful, even if it hurt. "Draco cannot love you and hate Harry at the same time. He has to..." Hermione hesitated only a moment before finishing, "... he has to give one of you up."

Ginny's lip quivered. "He hasn't even loved me for seven _days_," she said, her voice hopeless. "How could that be stronger than his hatred?"

"True love always is," Hermione reassured her. Ginny sniffled, but nodded, wiping her eyes.

Hermione let her gather herself, but finally said, "Now, we have a Masque to get ready for, don't we?"

(&)

"I'll go first," Hermione whispered, "and distract Harry and Ron. You sneak around the perimeter of the room and out the portrait hole."

"Right," Ginny whispered back, nodding. "Ready when you are."

Hermione gave Ginny's shoulder one last squeeze, smiled, and marched resolutely down the rest of the girl's staircase into the common room.

"H-Hermione," Ginny heard Ron stutter, sounding slightly breathless.

"You look great, Hermione," said Harry calmly. He sounded farther away; he was probably trying to give his friends some room. Ginny smiled to herself. _Ever the gentleman._ Then he smile faded. Harry might be going wand-to-wand with Draco that very evening...

_Not if I can help it,_ she thought to herself, but her voice was not as strong as she had hoped it would be.

She heard Hermione's voice again, talking animatedly, and Ginny knew this was her chance. She snuck down the staircase, keeping to the shadows as she began to slither across the common room. Hermione was holding Ron's hand; he was blushing. They both stood in front of the fire. Sitting down in an armchair a few yard's away was Harry, looking casual but a little nervous.

Ginny was just creeping out of the portrait hole when she heard him ask, "Where's Ginny?"

(&)

Draco was leaning against the ramparts of the tower, his white robes glowing against the twilight sky. Ginny approached carefully, her heart roaring in her chest; she clenched her fists, trying to will herself to be strong. She had to convince Draco... she just _had to._

"Hello," she said, touching him on the shoulder and leaning against the stone next to him.

He turned quickly to look at her and gave her a fleeting smile. "Hey."

Ginny swallowed. She let her hand drop and looked not into Draco's eyes, but out at the darkening sky.

He sighed, looking away as well. "I know you're angry."

She stiffened. _Oh, Merlin..._

Draco was staring at her again. "But I don't know why," he added, his voice quiet and almost pleading.

Ginny relaxed slightly. So Blaise hadn't told Draco about the knowledge he'd released.

But now she would have to, so either way, it was bad.

She gulped, steeled her resolve one last time, and then turned to face Draco. "I know about the duel," she spat out, much more quickly than she'd meant to. She watched his face for a reaction.

His features seemed to deflate. "Oh. That."

"Draco..."

"Look, Ginny," he interrupted, his voice stern and becoming angry. "Potter isn't going to just _accept_ us. He's not as smart as Granger."

Ginny sighed. "Draco, listen to me."

To her surprise, Draco fell silent. He turned to face her. His eyes were angry, but they were not stone-hard. She gazed into them with determination.

"You cannot fight Harry tonight." Draco let out a hiss of breath and opened his mouth to retort, but Ginny was faster. She held up a hand to quiet him and continued. "You must make a choice." His brow was knitted with doubt, hurt, and growing rage. "There is a very fine line between love and hate. You and I are walking proof. True love and true hate cannot coexist." Ginny's voice stuck in her throat for a moment; the next words were the hardest to say, but she knew that she had to. "You must choose," she said finally. "Love or hate. Harry or me. Duel... or no duel."

Draco was silent. Then he clenched his hand into a fist and punched it angrily into the stone wall. He sighed with frustration, looking out across the vast lengths of green surrounding Hogwarts. "Dammit, Ginny," he said, his voice hoarse. "You understand too well."

_Hermione understands too well, _Ginny corrected silently. Aloud, she said, "I'm sorry, Draco."

He closed his eyes. "No. You shouldn't have to be sorry. You and I - we aren't about my war with Potter. We never have been and should never have to be." He looked at his feet, at the sky, anywhere but at Ginny. "It's my own damn fault, really. I - I couldn't give it up," he choked.

Suddenly, Ginny was next to him, holding him, kissing him. He melded into her, his kisses passionate and needy and filled with all the emotion of loss. They broke apart after minutes had passed, both of them breathing hard. Ginny's hands found Draco's.

"My love is stronger," he said finally, and this time, he met her eyes. "I promise."

"True love always is," said Ginny wryly, and he bent to kiss her again.

(&)

"Are you ready to go down now?"

Ginny closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Her features were no longer illuminated by the sunset; stars shone above them. Night had fallen.

It was time.

"Yes," Ginny replied, and her fingers intertwined themselves with Draco's. "Yes, I can face them now."

They descended the stairs together, the warmth of one seeping into the other. The simple presence of Draco steadied Ginny's heart; as long as he stood beside her and fought with her, she knew that they would win.

_Win?_ Ginny thought to herself. _What are we fighting? Why must it be a battle? _But somehow, she knew this night could never pass peacefully. Ron... and Harry... they had too much pride to fall so easily. They would yell and fight until they were hoarse and weary, and even beyond that moment. They would never give in. Ginny's hope faltered... but Draco squeezed her hand, and suddenly, anything was possible.

The Entrance Hall was in sight. It was empty; music and the sounds of laughing students drifted from the Great Hall. Everyone was inside; the Masque had begun.

Ginny looked at Draco one last time before the chaos began. He seemed distant, lost in his own world, but when he met her eyes, he was back to earth.

"I'm ready," he whispered.

"No duel," Ginny reminded him, and he nodded slowly, deliberately. It was settled.

Then, hand in hand, Draco and Ginny entered the Great Hall.

(&)

Silence. Chilling, brutal emptiness.

Ginny would rather everyone had started screaming.

Only Draco's warm hand in her own gave Ginny the strength to look at her brother. He had just spewed out a gulp of butterbeer onto his table; his face was the color of radishes, and the look of indignant horror on his face was more intensely emotional than Ginny had ever seen. For a moment it was hard to tell whether the heart beating so quickly in her ears was her own or Ron's, audible from across the hall.

But Harry. _Harry._

Suffice it to say that Ron had nothing on Harry.

Then Draco was squeezing Ginny's hand, drawing her eyes back to his own gentle, beautifully _not_ angry face. Neither of them could find it in themselves to smile, but they didn't have to; the love was in their eyes. Their footsteps echoed as they crossed the hall, followed closely by the wide eyes of the watching students. Even Time was holding its breath as they faced the tiny circular table where Ron, Harry, and Hermione sat.

Then came the reckoning.

(&)

"What the bloody fuck is going on?" Ron's question was more growls than words, as he was speaking through clenched teeth.

"I'm in love with Malfoy," Ginny explained, surprised at the evenness in her voice.

Ron blinked. He glanced at Malfoy. Then he turned to Hermione and repeated, "What the _bloody_ _fuck_ is going on?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, you see, Ron... Ginny's in l-love with Malfoy..."

Something snapped in Ron. "I'M. GOING. TO. KILL. HIM."

He made a wild leap over the table, got his foot caught on the extra chair, fell onto Harry, managed to get himself upright, and whirled to face Malfoy... only to find that Ginny had stepped smoothly between them.

"No, Ron," she said simply. "You're going to sit down, shut up, and listen." And with that, she gave him a little shove back to his seat. He was too stunned to protest, but it would not last long. Ginny seized her chance.

"Draco is not going to fight you. He has given up his hatred of you. He has finally recognized what you never could: _love is more important._ Therefore, Ron, I ask you this: which is more important? Your love for me... or your hatred of Draco?"

Ron opened and closed his mouth several times, as if he were choking on a bone. He finally managed a guttural, strangled noise that was incoherent. Ginny folded her arms across her chest and waited; Draco shifted impatiently behind her; Hermione seemed to be fighting an inward battle on whether or not to reach out and grab Ron's hand; Harry was quivering with so much rage that he could not express it, and remained silent, giving Draco a look that would kill.

Then Ron slumped forward, his head falling into his hands, and the climactic moment ended.

"You're my sister," he half-sobbed, half-choked into his fingers. "You're my little sister, Ginny."

Ginny bit her bottom lip, her confidence cracking for the first time. "Even little sisters have to grow up, Ron," she murmured finally.

He was silent for several long minutes, his eyes still hidden behind his hands. Then Hermione scooted closer to him, her fingers finding his and her eyes offering only comfort and love. He looked up at her touch and met those eyes and the scales seemed to tip. His love, too, needed to be given room to grow; it was time for Ron to make his sacrifice.

His blue eyes flicked to Ginny, though his hand still gripped Hermione's, as if using her as support. "Of course," he whispered, his voice very hoarse. "We _all_ have to grow up."

It was almost a victory; it was almost joyful; Draco and Ginny could almost have celebrated, if not for -

"NO, RON!"

All eyes swivelled to Harry, including the eyes of the other students, still raptly watching the drama play out. He had leapt from his seat, his eyes wild and huge, his breathing heavy and his face pale in his anger.

"Harry -" Ginny murmured.

"YOU!" he spat, directing every ounce of his livid feelings at her. "ALL THE TIME YOU MUST HAVE SPENT IN _HIS_ ARMS - LYING WITH _HIM - _LOVING _HIM..._"

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but this was Draco's turf. "Yes, Potter, she loves me," he said coolly. "But you forget that I love her in return. How could you let this petty feud kill such a beautiful thing?"

"ME?" Harry asked, and he seemed on the verge of angry tears. "_ME!_ YOU ACCUSE ME WHEN YOU - YOU WERE EVIL, VILE, PATHETIC -"

"I will be the first to admit my pitiful hatred," Draco said, and Ron did a double take, the shock apparent in his face. Unfortunately, it did not have the same affect on Harry.

"_Bastard,_" Harry whispered to him, taking a step toward him.

Draco took a step backward to counter it. "I'm not going to fight you, Potter. Like I say, I've admitting my anger... and that has given me the power to denounce it. From this night onward, I wash my hands of you and your rage. I want to be free to love, Potter."

Ginny looked at Harry with pleading eyes. "You must want to love also, Harry," she murmured. "You have to give up your hatred first."

Harry stiffened, his eyes falling shut with a wince of pain at their words. "I have already loved," he said, so quietly that Ginny could barely hear. "But it was love gone unnoticed."

Ginny felt as if her stomach had turned to rock. Her brain screamed with the horrid realization that Harry - Harry Potter, whom she had spent four years of her life loving with every molecule of her body - loved her.

_Harry. Loved. Her._

"Harry," she managed finally. "I'm so, so sorry..."

There was a long moment of excruciating silence. No one seemed to move or breath.

Suddenly, Harry stepped forward, taking the collar of Draco's robes in his hands. "You now have everything I ever wanted," he growled. "My hatred is all I have left." Then he turned abruptly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and marched from the hall, all eyes following him as he left.

The doors slamming behind him marked another period of stunned silence. Hermione was squeezing Ron's hand so hard that it hurt; Ginny and Draco were lost in each other's eyes again, sharing some profound message that no one else would ever understand.

Then, reality dawned.

Ginny spun around and faced Ron, searching for something in his eyes. Whether it was permission, mercy, or forgiveness, only the two of them would know, but find it she did. She flashed him an exuberant, amazed, overwhelmed smile before racing into Draco's arms.

They stood in the center of the hall, each rejoicing with the other, each giving the other protection and relief. After several minutes like this, Draco's white head bowed over Ginny's red one, an odd sound came to their ears.

Ginny looked up, bewildered, to see her own puzzlement mirrored on Draco's face. They looked out at the other students, still holding one another, only to discover that everyone was _applauding._ Some people had leapt to their feet; whistles could be heard; smiles and laughter painted the faces of people in each of the four houses. Ginny and Draco could not believe the sight.

That was when the truth really hit them. They had all grown tonight, even Harry, though he had chosen to grow in a different way. That growth had allowed for beautiful new things to evolve, one of which... was love. Specifically, the love that Draco and Ginny would forever after share. That moment, with all of Hogwarts rejoicing in the love that would no longer be stifled, triggered a lifetime of events that would become sweet, sweet memories.

And then, in front of everyone, Draco and Ginny shared a long, passionate kiss.

(&)


End file.
